The Diary of a Broken Soul
by Ms.Marvel21
Summary: This is my journal, and pages from Sam's, tracking my long history with the Winchester brothers. They've been though hell and back again (literally), and I've been along for the ride…and have possibly fallen in love. (Sam/OC. Slight AU but sticks to the show pretty well. Some chapters are rated M and will be marked as such. Takes place in Seasons 2-11 and possibly further.)
1. November, 2006: Day 1

November, 2006: Day 1

 _Beep… Beep…. Beep..._ The noise was slow and steady but somehow sweat was already falling down my face. The lights were too hot, but they were necessary to carry on. Flashes of blue passed around me, yelling at each other about amounts and instruments. I was in my zone though, the place I had to keep my mind when everything else was utter chaos. I couldn't hear, almost couldn't breathe. Just pure focus on the person in front of me.

"Forceps." I said. The metal object was handed over to me. I had to get a handle on it or it may slip out of my hands due to the blood on them. Inserting the tool into the incision, I clamped the metal down onto another piece of metal. Slowly, I pulled the small bead strait up, and moved it to my right, where there was a tray waiting for me. This poor guy had been hit with some nasty buckshot.

I inserted the forceps into the body again, this time looking for a small fragment of bone. The assistant next to me moved a few tools around to pull the skin apart, allowing for me to have a better view. And there it was, the small spec of white that I was looking for.

I clamped down on it with the forceps and brought it back to the tray on my side. Turning around, I set the bloody forceps down on the table. I started looking for the next tools I would need. I picked up the stint and turned my attention back to the patient. "I'm going to need four screws with this." I said.

"Wilson, how are you doing?" Someone asked. The other surgeon was working on removing the other bullets from the patients chest region. I didn't have time to listen to his reply because four screws on a metal tray were brought to me. I positioned the stint to line up between the two halves of the bone. "Hold." I asked. Another gloved hand held the stint in place as I put my hand out.

"Drill." The machine was placed into my right hand and I lowered it down to the patient's bone. The bit of the drill went though the hole of the stint perfectly. Gently, I pulled back on the trigger of the drill and it burrowed into the bone. It seemed to take a long time, but I knew I was going as quickly as I could.

All four holes were drilled and I began to screw in the bolts that would hold the patient's bone together. "The patient's heart rate is increasing." I managed to hear. The anesthesiologist would handle it.

I was about to screw in the last bolt when I heard shouting. A hand obstructed my view and pushed me back away from the patient. My focus was broken and my drill almost fell on the floor. The patient's body jolted on the table as someone placed the paddles on his chest. Cardiac arrest.

I didn't notice that the beeping had stopped. My eyes glanced up to the monitors above our heads. His heart rate was still just a line. "Clear!" Someone shouted and shocked the patient again. This time the beeping resumed. It was a little sporadic still, but he was alive once again. I could swear that everyone sighed at that moment.

I didn't waste my time returning to work. The last screw was in and the drill was taken away. Turning around, I grabbed the last thing I would need. Stiches. It was a long incision along his leg, and it was very deep. I decided on a type of stich and began to sew up his thigh. I worked quickly knowing that the patient would be more stable once us surgeons stopped poking his body with things.

The last stich was complete and I backed away from the patient. I sat the item down on the table so it could be counted with the rest. Wilson was already done with his work; they were just waiting for me. Which was okay, trying to fix the largest bone in the human body was far from easy.

Wilson and I exited the operating room along with most of the team. The rest would put the patient back up in intensive care. Pulling off my gloves, I tossed them in the trashcan. I leaned up against the wall and allowed myself to breathe. "I don't know how you do it, Carter." Wilson said as he washed his hands.

Turning my head, I realized I should be doing the same thing. "Do what?" I asked. I was finally beginning to feel like a normal person again. "How you stay so damn calm. Even if the patient is going to die on us, you're just so calm." I let out a laugh. "Well, I get in the zone I guess." Wilson laughed too and left the room.

I tossed my shoe covers and apron thing away in the biohazard bin and exited into the hallway. It was a little less chaotic than the operating room, or at least for now. Glancing at my wrist, I saw it was already four o'clock. Six hours of intense surgery. I headed towards the bathroom. I at least had to make it there before I was called out to operate again.

"Dr. Carter!" I heard a voice shout at me. I debated whether or not to stop, but ultimately I did. "Please, I just got out of a major surgery." Turning around, I saw it was none other than Martha. She was my nurse and a close friend.

"Go then, but there are two people in your office that want to meet with you." I made a face. "That's odd. Higher ups?" I asked. She looked about as confused as I did. "They were in suits, so maybe. They just wanted to meet with you after you got out of surgery." Meeting with higher ups wasn't bad, unless someone was trying to sue me. Again. "Okay, I'll be right up."

I made my way out of the bathroom and towards my office, still puzzled on why two higher ups wanted to speak with me. I was hoping they were not here telling me someone was suing or they were letting me go. When people die, they want someone to blame, and it typically is one of the surgeons that worked on the patient.

I pulled the door handle and entered the office. Well, here goes nothing. "Hello," I said, startling the two men. One was browsing my bookcase whilst the other was scanning over document on my desk. It was certainly odd, but I didn't say anything because they can kind of fire me. "Take a seat," I said. I certainly was, I hadn't sat down in hours.

"What can I do for you two?" I asked after neither of them said anything immediately. "We were wondering if we could speak with Dr. Carter." The shorter, blonde one said at last. Both were at least a foot taller than me though, but one was a few inches shorter than the other. One blonde, one with brown hair. "That's me." I replied. "If this is about the patient last month, I am sorry for the inconvenience the family may be causing."

The two men looked at each other, and then back at me. "The injuries they sustained were beyond repair." I explained. "I did the best that I could, but by the time the patient got here there was too much damage, too much lost blood. We did everything." It broke my heart when patients passed, especially when I could do nothing about it.

"Uh, m'am, I believe you have us mixed up with someone else." I took a sip of the water bottle on my desk. "We're from the FBI. Agent Kapplan and he's Agent McAlister." The taller one said. Both pulled out badges and I felt pretty foolish. "Oh, so I'm not being sued?" I asked.

They exchanged looks between themselves again. "Not that we know of." Kapplan replied. "We just need to ask you a few questions about a patient under your care, doctor." Agent McAlister asked.

I took another sip of water and turned my computer monitor on. I typed in my ID number to log onto the hospital's system. "I'd be happy to help. Last name?" I asked. "Hilston." McAlister said. I typed the last name into the system and it brought up the file of my patient. "Oh, yes, Mr. Hilston."

I turned my chair back to face the two agents. "I actually just treated him this week. What do you want to know?" I asked. "Did he have any…unusual injuries? Anything at this point that you can tell us will help." Agent Kapplan asked.

"Well, he was stabbed, which isn't totally uncommon. It didn't hit any major organs that I know of." I was interrupted by McAlister. "That you know of?" He sounded surprised. "Didn't you know, like operate on him?" His partner glared at him, but I laughed. "I'm an orthopedic trauma surgeon. I focus on bones." I explained. "Common misconception."

Agent Kapplan still looked angry, his jaw rather tense. "So, what did you do then?" McAlister asked. "Well," I began. "His shoulder was dislocated, he had some damage to his right wrist joint, and his knee was messed up pretty bad, like someone kept kicking him there. He looked like he had been in a pretty bad fight." Agent McAlister was scribbling down the information on his notepad. "When was he discharged?" Kapplan asked.

I began to laugh again. "He's in the CCU. He's doing all right, but he lost a lot of blood. I operate on him again this Thursday." McAlister almost dropped his pen. "He's still here?" He asked. The two men looked alarmed. "Yeah, my kinds of patients usually spend a lot of time here recovering."

"May we meet with the patient?" Kapplan asked. It was my turn to give them an odd look. "He's still under anesthesia, so he can't talk or anything." Patients under a lot of pain will be kept sedated. Then once they have healed up, they are taken off those drugs. "We still have to meet with the patient. Fed protocol." McAlister told me. Whatever makes them happy. "Sure, follow me."

The two agents walked onto the elevator with me and we traveled up to the third floor. "So, are you running an investigation on this guy?" I asked once we were inside. "Yeah." McAlister answered. "Just trying to piece together what exactly happened." The elevator dinged and we exited onto the third floor. I led them to the patient's room after asking a nurse what number he was in.

"Here's Mr. Hilston." I said, opening the door for them to enter the room. The two entered and looked around. He was hooked up to quite a few pieces of equipment. My pager vibrated on the waistband of my scrubs. Taking it out, I saw I was being called back to the ER.

"Well, that's my que, agents." I said. "If you have any other questions, you know where to find me." The two nodded. "Thank you for your time." Agent McAlister said.

I was about to exit the room before I remembered something about Mr. Hilston. "One more thing," I said, catching their attention. "He had really bad hemorrhaging in his eyes. So bad that they were almost black." The two men looked shocked. I took another step out the door before one of them spoke up.

"Where is your cafeteria? I haven't eaten since breakfast and I'm starving." Agent Kapplan asked. "This floor but to the left of the elevators." He gave a nod. "Thank you." And with that I rushed back down to see trauma awaited me.


	2. November, 2006: Day 2, Page 1

November, 2006: Day 2, Page 1

"Okay, go ahead and remove him from it. We're prepped down here and ready to go." Martha hung up the phone and I washed my hands with the hand sanitizer on her desk. This week I had been in and out of surgeries like you wouldn't believe. Then again, I am a trauma surgeon, and the world isn't a nice place.

"You okay?" Martha asked. To be honest, I was exhausted and wanted nothing more to go collapse on my bed. "Yeah, I'm good." I replied. "Is the surgery going to be rough or something?" She asked.

I didn't think it would be too bad now that he was in better condition. But I really had to reset so major bones, and complications aren't uncommon. Or possibly something much worse. "Nothing I can't handle. Just got an odd feeling." Martha nodded and grabbed something off her desk. "Good news is that I'm not being sued." I added. She let out a laugh. "That's always a good thing."

With that I was off to the patient. The elevator ride was short, but I had enough time to reread the patient's chart. Hilston. That name rang a bell. It hit me that he was the man under federal investigation. It seemed like weeks ago that those men were here, when in reality it was only a few days ago. I guess that's what time does to you when you work 30 hour shifts.

I exited the elevator and made my way to the patient's room. I wanted to personally check on him to make sure he knew what was happening. If I had been asleep for that long, I'd want to know what was going on too. Plus I always like getting to see my patients when they are awake. Usually they are all comatose and under my scalpel or drill.

I entered the room and set my chart down on the table in there. "Mr. Hilston, I'm Dr. Carter. Has anyone explained to you what happened?" There was no reply though. Turning towards the patient, I saw a nurse in scrubs fiddling with the IV.

"Oh, he wasn't removed from the sedative?" I asked. The nurse wouldn't turn and look at me though. "Uh, no, not yet, I uh, was told you wouldn't be in to see him right away."

That's odd. I called up and told them I was ready. "A different doctor took over a few of my surgeries so I could operate on this patient today." The nurse was still messing with the IV.

"You're not doing that correctly." I said. What the heck was he trying to do? "Oh, I was just adjusting the…" He was at a loss of words. "New?" I asked. I remembered my first week in a hospital. Not exactly a walk in the park. "Yeah, first day." He replied, still refusing to turn and look at me, which was beginning to feel rude. "Let me help." I said, crossing the room towards the patient.

"No, uh, I can figure it out, I'm just tired that's all. Step out into the hall and I'll be done in five." Right... I headed over anyways to see what was up. My foot slipped out from under me and I grabbed onto the patient's bed railing. "What the heck!?" I shouted.

On the ground, there was a bunch of granules everywhere. Leaning down, I picked up some of it and rolled it between my fingers. "Salt? Why is there salt all over the floor? What exactly is going on here?" I raised my voice at the nurse. Something wasn't right.

"Hey, Sam, I got the rest of the-" A man walked into the room and quickly closed the door behind himself. "Agent McAlister?" I asked. It was definitely him standing in front of me in a doctor's coat. "What the hell do you think your doing?"

McAlister made a face and almost dropped all of the things he was carrying. "What is she doing here!? You said she wasn't coming right away!" I turned around to see that the nurse in scrubs was Agent Kapplan. "She just barged in! What was I suppose to do?!"

I headed out towards the door. "I'm sorry, I am going to have to call security on you. You could have harmed my patient!" Kapplan blocked the door. "I'm sorry, we can't let you do that. We're under cover. This is part of our investigation." He said.

"Dude, did you take his IV out already?" McAlister asked, setting containers down near the patient. "Let me out, right now!" I shouted. "Get her to stop screaming. We have to do this quickly." McAlister said.

Kapplan leaned forward but I ran towards the patient. The code blue button was an inch from my fingertips before I was jerked backwards. A strong arm wrapped around my midsection to restrain me. "Let me go!" I shouted, digging my fingernails into his arm.

The patient jolted up in bed. Suddenly, his eyes flashed open to reveal blackness. His head snapped towards me with the oddest smile I've ever seen.

All I could do was scream. What happened to my patient? I had never before seen this in my life, and I had been in medicine for a while now.

A hand covered my mouth and pulled me back away from the patient. McAlister grabbed one of the containers he had on him and pulled the lid off. He tossed the contents onto the patients face. Whatever it was hissed and its skin began to burn off its face. I screamed again but it was muffled by Kapplan's hand.

"Dean, hurry!" Kapplan shouted at McAlister. While Kapplan was talking, I slipped though his hands and raced towards my patient. "You can't touch him!" I shouted.

Kapplan grabbed me again, this time tossing me over his shoulder. "Let me go! You can't do this to a patient!" I swung my legs and dug my fingers into his back, anything to get me down from here.

"Honey, this isn't your patient anymore!" McAlister shouted. He started chanting (yes, chanting something) in some language, causing my patient to cringe.

Still fighting, I finally swung my leg low enough to hit Kapplan where it hurt. His arm let go of me and I fell onto the tile floor. Scrambling up, I raced towards the door. I didn't know what was happening but I wanted out.

The patient though, was standing directly in front of it. "Going somewhere?" It taunted. I screamed again and the door busted open. "What the heck is going on in here?!" The security agent said. "Run!" I heard one of the agents shout at me. You didn't have to tell me twice.

I bolted past my once was human patient and out into the hallway. "Get to the cafeteria!" McAlister shouted at me as I about slid into a wall. Regaining my traction, I took off down the hall towards the cafeteria.

Peering behind me, I saw the dark eyed patient closely followed by Kapplan and McAlister. I ran right into some nurses and a patient by accident. A patient's bed blocked the rest of the hallway and I had to think fast. Quickly swinging a right, I dashed down a different hallway and then crossed back over. They were still following me.

I gathered up one last burst of energy to send me down the rest of the hallway into the cafeteria. It was later in the day, past dinnertime, and I hoped a lot of people were not in there. Even if I did make it, what do I do once I'm in there?

Yanking the doors open, I ran on inside. Salt. The thing that used to be my patient hated salt. Grabbing the nearest shaker off of a table, I tugged the top of it off. The doors swung out wide and the patient ran in, followed by Kapplan and McAlister.

I tossed the container of salt at my patient's face. The creature screeched and frantically tried to wipe the salt from its eyes.

Kapplan wrapped his arms around the patient to hold him down, but he was quicker and slipped out easily from his grasp. Turning to his left, the patient punched McAlister in the nose before jumping on the long table that ran to the other side of the room.

Kapplan followed suit and chased the man onto the tables. Leaning down, I held up Agent McAlisters head and felt his nose. Not broken, but definitely damaged. His eyes opened suddenly and he brushed my hands away.

"Stay back!" He hissed, picking up another salt container from the floor. Standing up, he began to speak in an odd language. The patient turned and stared at him with his black eyes. It made me shivered.

He took off now towards McAlister, but Agent Kapplan stood in his way. Raising his hand, the creature stopped Kapplan in his tracts. He doubled over in pain and began to cry out. The shouting stopped, his knees hit the table, and he fell to the floor.

McAlister continued to chant some more odd phrases and my patient seemed transfixed in his spot on the tabletop. Reaching out his arm, he tried to do the same thing to McAlister that he did to Kapplan but he was growing weak. "Adios, bitch!" McAlister shouted.

The patient threw back his head and black smoke shot out of his lungs and into the air. It quickly reached the vents and dissipated. Mr. Hilstons eyes returned to normal, and he collapsed onto the floor.


	3. November, 2006: Day 2, Page 2

November, 2006: Day 2, Page 2

What the heck just happened?! McAlister grabbed me before I could say anything and pulled me off the ground. "Come on, we've got to move." He said. I kicked him as hard as I could in the knee and took off.

"Security!" I shouted, sprinting back down the hall. I didn't know what was going on, but those agents were trouble. They killed my patient! Or at least I think they did. An arm wrapped around my midsection and I came to a halt.

"Shut up!" I heard one of the two agents say. A hand covered my mouth to get me to be quiet. I kicked out and tried to get free of the two guys, but nothing seemed to be working.

"Dean, the elevator." No! They were going to try and smuggle me out of here. It took some effort, but they forced me into the elevator. The hand moved away from my mouth so I could breathe easier.

"You killed my patient! What did you do to him?" I shouted. "What was the black smoke for? What's going on!?" The men looked unamused. "Dude, just get her to shut up." McAlister said.

The hand covered my mouth again, and so I started to hit him. The elevator doors opened though, and we were down in the basement. Maybe they were going to kill me too. I fought harder, but I wasn't getting anywhere.

"Will you stop it?" Kapplan asked me as he dragged me though the basement towards the door. My arms were aching at this point, but I wasn't going to stop. "We're not trying to hurt you." Yeah, right. I kicked him again, which made him tug on me harder.

"Come on, out this way." McAlister whispered. "I'll start the car, you put her in the back." They dragged me out into the parking lot and I was put into the back seat a black car.

"You can't just leave her back there, she'll jump out." McAlister said, or as the other agent had called him, Dean. "You want me to tie her to the seat?" He replied. Dean seemed to think that it wasn't a bad idea after all.

"Get me handcuffs." He said at last. His arm forced me back down in the seat. The metal bracelets were placed around my wrists. The two of them got into the front seat of the car and took off.

Dean turned around in the passengers seat to take a look at me. From the way he was sitting, I could tell he was trying to apply pressure to his side. The other man, whose first name I still didn't know, seemed to be in pain as well.

"What you saw today, that was an exorcism." He told me. Right. And I'm the Queen of England. "I know you don't believe it, but that thing inside your patient was a demon." It sounded far-fetched to me, but for a moment there my patient didn't seem human. Still, a demon? That was a bit extreme.

"You killed him." I replied. He sighed and rolled his eyes. The other man laughed. "We saved him." Okay, that definitely wasn't it. "Sam." Dean warned. He knew I wasn't believing any of this.

"You killed him and kidnapped me. You aren't agents. You're horrible people." That seemed to shut them up from the time being. I still didn't know where we were going.

I tried to contort my hands to get out of these cuffs, but I couldn't without breaking something. The road was starting to go through another city, and we finally made some turns. That meant we were off the freeway. We were going to stop somewhere.

Dean slumped over in his seat before sitting back up. He was seriously hurt, besides where I kicked his knee. Sam pulled into a sketchy motel parking lot before parking and turning the car off.

"There's another way we can do this." Sam said to Dean. "No. We can't let her go. She will turn us into the police." That was pretty accurate. I had their badge information back at my office. They would be charged for kidnapping at least. And probably impersonating a federal agent.

The two of them exchanged some looks, which I didn't understand, and then they both got out of the car. While they were talking, I had rotated my hands to grasp the door handle.

Sam got near my door, and with my foot on the inside of it, I swung it out as hard as I possibly could. It nailed him in the legs and I slipped out of the car and sprinted like a mad man towards the lobby.

Dean was on me though, right at my heels. He reached out and grabbed my scrub top. The two of us came tumbling to the ground. Pretty impressive for someone who's injured already.

"Gotcha." He breathed pretty heavily as he stood up, wrapping his arm tightly around my elbow. I was dragged back towards the hotel room. Dean was limping at this point from overexerting his damaged knee.

Sam had the door open and Dean pushed me inside. I braced myself and fell on my side. "Damn it." He muttered, sitting down on one of the disgusting looking twin beds.

I think Sam could tell Dean was hurt pretty bad. "We need to tie her up." Sam said. Dang it. "And don't you dare run for it." He said. I sank back into the carpet. My heart was going a mile a minute.

Dean pulled the chair out from the desk and put it in the center of the room. Sam lifted me up and forced me into the chair. My handcuffs were removed and my hands were tied behind my back. Sam tied my ankles to the chair.

"Dean, you're bleeding." Sam said as the two of them collapsed on the twin beds. "I'm fine." He said, "It's just a few stitches." I laughed and the two of them looked up at me.

"You're bleeding profusely on the right site. You were applying pressure on it in the car." I commented. I was a doctor, and even if these people weren't good news, I felt obligated to treat them.

"Shut up, bitch." Dean said. Sam was interested though. " Ask him to remove his shirt." I told him. Sam looked at Dean. It was more like a glare. "Let's see it then." He told Dean.

"Come on, it's not that bad!" Dean insisted. He sat up and started to unbutton his shirt. I waited for it. On the third or fourth button his eyes rolled back and he passed out on the bed.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, and quickly hovered over his body to take a pulse. "Let me out of this and I'll take a look at him." I said. Sam let out a snort before replying "No." Of course.

He continued to move him, which was wrong. "Stop moving him around, you're going to cause him to bleed out." I said. Sam looked uncertain now, maybe rethinking his no. "Does he have a pulse?" I asked. No reply.

Sam took off Dean's shirt to reveal the wound. I couldn't see it well from my spot on the chair. "Apply pressure." I said. Sam turned towards me, his mouth open, but he never got out what he was going to say.

"I'm a freaking trauma surgeon! Let me help you." I said. Sam rolled his eyes but got off the bed. "And you have to promise me that you will not take off. I don't want to hurt you."

Well that was intimidating. "I promise. He's losing blood, just get me out of this." I said. Sam slid a knife under the ropes bonding my hands and legs. I rushed to Dean to see the damage.

"Deep wound, looks like it just hit the abdominal muscles and not his kidney." I said. Sam handed me a pair of gloves. Quickly I put them on and began digging around inside the wound. Sam didn't look grossed out by it, which was weird. People didn't always do well with blood and gore.

"He needs stitches." It was deep, but there wasn't anything inside the wound. "I'll be right back." Sam said. I wadded up Dean's shirt and applied pressure while Sam got me sutures.

The rise and fall of Dean's chest became slower and slower, which concerned me. I didn't know how much blood he had lost. "Here." He handed me a container of dental floss and a needle. I looked up and stared at him.

"And here." He said, holding up a bottle of whisky. "Check his pulse." I said as I took the glass from his hands. I put the needle in it and pulled out a piece of dental floss. I stuck it in the whisky as well.

I worked from one end of the wound to the other quickly, sewing the pieces of skin back together. "His pulse is up." Sam told me. Thank goodness. I poured the rest of the whisky on the wound while he was still out.

I monitored him a little longer, just to make sure he was okay. "The only other injury he has is his knee." I told Sam. "I kicked it pretty hard." Sam didn't seem upset with me at the moment, just concerned about Dean.

"How would you recommend fixing it?" He asked. Good question. "I would order an x-ray so I can see what's going on." Sam sighed. "I'll just pop it back into place." He said.

"Woah, if you're going to do that, let me look at it." I said. I rolled up his jeans so I could see the knee I kicked. There was some swelling, which was expected, but it looked and felt like it was out of socket. Sam was strong enough to pop it back.

"Place your hands here and here." I instructed. Sam did as I said so he had a hand on both sides of Dean's knee. He pressed hard against his other hand and there was a pop.

"That was it." I told him. Sam removed his hands and took a breath. "Good." He said. We both sat there, unsure of what we were supposed to do now. Sam moved back over to his bed and sat down.

"I'm not an idiot." I said aloud. Sam looked up at me, obviously confused. "You're in pain." I continued. He opened his mouth to start arguing with me, but then stopped himself.

"There's something embedded in my side." He said at last. Well that was unexpected, but I needed to act quickly. "Take your shirt off." I told him. Sam hesitated be did so anyways.

It took me a second to refocus myself. Besides the fact, I did see something in his side. A fork. How did a fork get in his side? The prongs were digging into the skin and the handle was bent up against his side. He had to have fallen on it.

I knelt down on the bed to take a look at it. "This is going to hurt." I warned him. "Get it out." Sam replied. I grasped the handle of the fork. He flinched, but he was taking the pain well.

The prongs looked curled, so there wasn't a way to remove the fork straight out. I would have to pull it out halfway and then turn it. But I would need to do it quickly. I tugged the fork out and then to the side. Sam let out a shout.

"It's out." I encouraged. "That's it. It's out." Blood ran from the four puncture wounds left in his side. "I should sew this." I said. The dental floss and alcohol was on the nightstand, so I went to work putting four small stiches in his side. He watched me sew up his skin.

As I cut the dental floss on the last one, Sam gripped by wrist. It scared me and I tried to pulled away. "Okay, you got to help. I have to tie you back up." He said. I sighed, but I was too scared to argue. The gun now visible on him was enough warning for me.

Sam led me back over to the chair and retied my bonds. My hands were pulled behind my back again, my ankles tied to the legs of the chair. I wasn't getting much sleep tonight.

"We will work things out in the morning." Sam said. We didn't make eye contact after that as he laid down to go to sleep. The lamp on the side table was shut off and I was left alone for the rest of the night.


	4. November, 2006: Day 3

November, 2006: Day 3

My back was extremely stiff at this point. And my leg was numb. Why wouldn't one of them wake up yet? I remained tied to the chair the entire night. I didn't get much sleep at all. It's kind of hard to sleep when you're twisted up like a pretzel.

I thought about what the two guys had told me. A demon? I really didn't know what to believe. It seemed so crazy to even think about it for a long period of time.

The two of them got up relatively early. Sam woke up earlier than Dean. He didn't pay much attention to me at all as he got up to use the bathroom. Dean was slower getting out of bed, but he eventually did. And kind of freaked out.

"Sam!" He shouted. If I had to guess, I would say that he didn't remember much from last night. "What's wrong?" He asked, stepping out of the bathroom. Dean stood up and put pressure on his bad knee. I would've thought it hurt, but it didn't seem to phase him too much.

"What the heck happened?" He asked, having to take a seat on the bed. Sam headed over and sat down across from him. "You lost too much blood and blacked out." Sam told him.

Dean's eyes widened. "Woah." He seemed impressed. "You did a lot of stitching." Dean ran a hand down his side. I cleared my throat and the boys looked at me for the first time this morning.

"Uh, well I…helped." Sam said, scratching the back of his head. Dean looked at him, then back at me, and then back at him. "You untied her?!" He asked. "She could've gotten away!"

Sam stared hesitantly at me, but I wasn't helping him out at all. "Dean, you passed out. What was I supposed to do?" He replied. Dean was still pissed, but he saw the logic in allowing me to help.

"You're welcome." I said aloud. They looked back over at me and then at each other. "What do we do with her now?" Dean whispered to Sam, who shrugged. "I don't know, we've never kidnapped anyone before."

That struck me as an odd sentence. Were they really the good guys in this mix up? As long as I am tied up, I'm going to say no to that one. They whispered some more between themselves before getting up to grab some breakfast out of the small, cheap refrigerator in the room.

I was pretty hungry myself, but they didn't offer me anything. The smell of food was too good though, and I had to ask. "Are you planning on starving me?" I asked. Maybe that wasn't the best way to get food.

"We should get her something to eat." Sam said to Dean, who didn't seem very keen on that idea. "She kicked my knee out of place." He said, taking a bite of whatever it was he had in his hand. I couldn't see, the couch was blocking my view.

"Yeah, and she set it back." Sam argued. Which wasn't entirely true, he actually did the popping. I sure wasn't going to say anything though at this point. "She wants us to untie her hands so she can get away again." Dean decided.

Which, he was right. "Come on, I haven't eaten in hours. I totally missed dinner." I added. Sam stared at Dean, giving him this horribly cute look. "She hasn't even been able to wash you're blood off her hands." He said. "Or use the bathroom." I chimed in. "I really do need to pee."

Dean started to look a bit concerned about that. "We can't untie you." Dean restated. Sam came over to me still and stood behind the chair. "I'll watch her." He said. "She didn't escape last night. Give her the benefit of the doubt."

I could tell Dean was considering it. "If she rats us out to the cops, it's your fault." He said. Sam tugged on the rope around my hands and it fell to the ground. I was surprised at their trust. I almost felt guilty for going to turn them in. Almost.

My wrists hurt a little, but I was going to be fine. Sam untied my legs and I stretched myself out. He looked at me still as I did so. "Granola bar?" Sam asked, lifting up his bag that was on the couch.

"I'd eat about anything at this point." I said. Granola bars were just okay, but I didn't mind. Sam tossed me one and I caught it. Dean still seemed on edge about me being untied. I couldn't blame him.

I tore off the plastic packaging and ate the bar quickly. The two of them watched me awkwardly. "I'm really sorry we got off on a bad foot." I said. Sam gave a nod but Dean still looked pissed off.

"Veronica Carter." I offered my hand to Sam, who shook it. "Sam Winchester." He said. I smiled. "Like the gun?" I asked. He laughed and nodded yes. "And you?" I offered my hand to Dean next.

He looked at it before caving and shaking it. "Dean." Was all he said. We stared awkwardly again at each other. "How does your side feel?" I asked him. Dean seemed to ease up a bit. "Like a patchwork quilt." He said.

Funny. At least it was stitched up. "You lost a lot of blood." I continued. He seemed amused. "I've been worse, don't worry." He said. Well, I still would, but okay.

"When can I go back home?" I asked. They weren't quick to answer, which I could understand. "I understand something unexplainable happened, and that you two aren't really FBI agents, and that you guys aren't really the bad guys in this. If you were, you would've killed me already. Right?"

They stayed silent for a few moments, Sam waiting for Dean to speak first. "Yeah, you can go home." He said. I assumed they were going to leave town pretty quickly, so I would have to notify the police once I got home.

I used the bathroom while Sam and Dean collected their things. They offered me a ride home, which I took. The quicker I got there, the quicker I could get them turned in.

They locked up the motel room and headed to their car. I followed behind the two and climbed into the back seat. "Dean, your knee was just now popped back into place. There is no way you are driving." Sam said.

"One scratch Sam, and you'll be sorry." Dean threatened. Sam didn't seem to take it too seriously. "Take some aspirin or something if you're in pain." He told Dean. They must be pretty close friends. It would take a while to learn how to pick up on someone's actions like that.

I had to guide Sam back through the town to where my apartment was located.

There wasn't a lot of traffic out at this time, which made it easy to get back. But it was dark out, and I had a long walk up to my apartment.

"We should go with you." Sam said before I opened the door. "No," I said, "I'll be fine." Sam looked at Dean, who looked at me, then at Sam. "We should." He said, without giving a reason why.

I shrugged. "Okay. I'm up a few flights." That didn't seem to concern them though. The two of them got out of the car and walked with me to my building. Dean held the door open to the stairwell for me and I went up, digging for the key in the pocket of my scrubs. Luckily it was there.

"Well, uh. Thanks?" I said. Thanks for kidnapping me. And potentially saving my life. Although I doubted that last one. A bit. "Thanks for stitching us up." Sam said. Dean didn't say anything, and then Sam nudged him in the side with his elbow. "Right, thanks." He said.

I opened up the door to my apartment to find the lights already on. That was odd, I always shut them off. Two familiar faces appeared from the kitchen. "Mom? Dad?" I said. Why were my parents here?

"Hey honey!" My mom said, giving me a hug. I hugged her back. "How long ago did you guys get here?" I asked. Why were they even here? It wasn't my birthday or anything special.

"You're mother and I wanted to surprise you. Dinner is on the table." My dad said, placing a hand on my shoulder. They started at Sam and Dean and then back at me. Crap. This wasn't what it probably looked like.

"Agents Kapplan and McAlister offered me a ride back home from the hospital. My car broke down." I said. "They were investigating Medicare fraud in my department." I lied. Why was I lying for them?

Sam and Dean looked relieved that I did though. "Pleasure working with you, Dr. Carter." Dean said, going along with the act. "Have a nice night." Sam added. I gave them a nod and they grabbed the door to close it.

"Hey," I said, which made everyone pause. I inhaled again before wrinkling my nose. "Do you guys smell natural gas?" I asked. Sam and Dean exchanged shocked looks before throwing the door back open.

My mom wrapped her hand around my neck, twisting my body around to face Sam and Dean again. "Don't move, or I'll kill her." I smacked my mom but she tightened her grip up.

"Mom?" What the heck was going on? She pulled my head down and looked at me with completely black eyes. Not this again. I thought this wasn't real! "Shut up." She said.

Without warning my dad threw himself at Dean, tackling him into the hallway. They continued to fight out there while Sam made a dash for me. Instantly he stopped and doubled over in pain.

"Stop it!" I screamed. Rearing my head back, I smashed Mom's nose and broke free. That stopped whatever she was doing to Sam, who then charged at her. He pushed her onto the floor and held her down.

"Get out, or I'll force you to." Sam said, holding my Mom's head up off the ground. She blinked and her eyes flashed black again. And she turned her head towards me. "So sorry." She smirked.

Mom turned her head back towards Sam before snapping her neck at an odd angle. There was a distinct crack and her body went limp. The darkness in her eyes disappeared and black smoke filled the room, whisking away through the crack in the window.

"Mom." My body felt numb. I placed my fingers on her neck trying in vain to find a pulse. She wasn't dead. She could still be saved. She wasn't gone. I traced my ring finger along her rib cage till I found her sternum.

I intertwined my hands and began chest compressions. One, two, three, four. Sam wrapped an arm around my midsection and pulled me away from her body. "No!" I screamed, slipping away from his grasp.

Five, six, seven, eight. "Veronica." Sam said, but I ignored him. Nine, ten, eleven. He grabbed me again, pulling me back. Wildly I tried to get away, to save her. I had to save her. I dug my fingernails into his arm, trying to get him to let me go.

"She's gone." Sam said, barely a whisper. I removed my hands from his arm and collapsed in a fit of tears. Sam's arm was the only thing holding me up. How could this happen to me? First my patient, then my parents. How many people were going to die? At this point in time, I wish I would have too. But this wasn't then end of my story. And I hated that.

Sam slowly released me and I moved to kneel down at my mother's side. Gently I closed her eyelids. Dean entered the room right about then, and Sam and I turned to see him.

The arms of his jacket were splattered with blood. He made eye contact with me before looking down. Dad was gone too. I assumed so, since he was possessed with one of those things as well.

"Veronica, I am-" Dean began, but I cut him off before he could continue. "It's not your fault." I said. "You hunt those things?" Sam and Dean looked at each other. I knew it was an odd question at the moment. "Yeah, one of the things we hunt." Sam replied.

"Then count me in."


	5. February, 2007

Content from Season 2, Episode 13: Houses of the Holy 

February, 2007

A few months have passed since my parents died. I swore that they wouldn't die in vain, and so the Winchesters have taken me across the country with them on hunting trips. Well, kind of.

I previously didn't know how to shoot, so I had to be taught. And fighting. That was hard to learn how to do. Dean would get rough sometimes, but I could handle it. I had to prove to the brothers that I was ready to go on my first hunt, and I did exactly that. After fighting the two of them and shooting up a target, they told me I was ready.

It was hard for me to get use to the life. After my parents were killed, I packed up all my essential things into a duffle bag and took off. If I stayed, I probably would have been blamed for my parent's death. Like anyone would believe a demon did it.

We started out with me being an agent, but lets be honest, I was horrible at it. Sam spend hours practicing with me, but I didn't know enough about how an investigation really worked besides what I've seen on TV. Bobby Singer, a close friend of the boys, came up with the idea of a medical examiner. Now that was something I could do.

They hadn't ever had one of those along for the ride, but we were going to try it. The overall examination of the body I couldn't screw up, so that was encouraging at least. Here goes nothing.

But today was a bit different. Dean was a wanted man in the US right now, so we had to confine him to the motel room. Sam and I were going to interview a woman who killed a man, claiming angles had told her to.

It was odd being allowed to sit in the passenger's seat of the impala, but I liked the view much better up front. Dean said he would kill Sam if he let me drive, so that was totally out of the question.

"You seem nervous." Sam said, pulling up behind another car as the street light turned red. "I am." I replied. I wasn't going to lie about it. "Interviews typically aren't too bad." He said. "We will be in and out in no time." I sure hoped so.

Sam parked in the back of the hospital. From my bag on the floor I pulled out my doctor's coat and a stethoscope. He was already in a pair of scrubs. I would play the doctor at this institution and Sam would be a nurse. We would go in and interview her, and just as quickly as we got in we would get out. Easy, right? 

"This is so illegal." I muttered as I pulled my arm though the coat. Sam laughed. "Welcome to the dark side." I couldn't help but smile. With the stethoscope draped around my neck, I was ready to go.

The two of us snuck around to the back entrance though one of the maintenance doors. The room was made out of unpainted concrete and different color pipes ran water and steam over our heads. Charming little place. On the hospital map we found online, we should be able to take this door directly to the floor of the girl we needed to see.

"Damn it." Sam muttered, yanking on the next door we needed to go through. The metal door hit the concrete wall and rang. He pressed on the door to get it to stop shaking. "We need to move." He said, grabbing my arm and pulling me around the corner.

I yanked my arm away from him as we walked towards the next door visible to us. He looked over at me, probably wanting an explanation. "I can run without you pulling me." I told him. Sam shrugged.

The next door luckily was unlocked. Sam pulled it out cautiously before slowly closing it again. "What's wrong?" I asked, trying to peer around his hulking figure. "This leads directly out to the patient rooms." He said.

The locked door lead to an area where people weren't around, so this was kind of a problem. We didn't plan on encountering lots of people. "I'll head out first," Sam said, "Then you head out in another three minutes. We can meet up at the end of the hallway."

Splitting up? I didn't want to split up! I didn't have a gun on me, and after seeing Sam and Dean return to the motel rooms in the condition they were in, I didn't want to leave Sam's side.

"Come on, this is a hospital," He said. "You're an actual doctor. This is you're turf." Technically this was a mental institution and I've only been in one once before. But I'll try to be encouraged by what he said.

"Okay, I'll be out in three minutes. Go." I told him. Sam slipped out the door and headed down the right hallway. On my phone I watched the time. Three minutes would go by quickly. Right?

Time was up and I stepped out of the door and into the crowded hallway. No one was around this hallway at this immediate moment. The first thing I could identify was the nurses station, or what would be equivalent to it.

I scanned everything quickly. I had to meet up with Sam, but I needed to find the whiteboard. Which conveniently was posted on the wall behind the desks. Gloria. I looked for her name up on the board and found her in room 223.

I picked up a random patient chart on off the desk on the corner and headed down the right hallway, where Sam would be. We made eye contact and he approached me to talk.

"Room 223." I told him. Sam looked confused, but nodded. He followed me down the hall towards the patient's room. Except we had one problem. A nurse was just about to head inside with medication.

"Excuse me," I said to her. "I'm so lost." The nurse looked up at me and set the medication back down onto the cart. "Okay." She said, looking at me funny. "I'm a specialist who's been called out here. I'm looking for this patient, but I can't find them."

I handed the nurse the chart and she took a look at it. "Oh, just take the hallway down and turn left." I gave her a blank stare. "Just follow me, I can show you." She said, a little annoyed. But I didn't care. I turned around to look at Sam, who nodded and entered the patient's room.

I followed her down the hallway and stopped outside the patient's room. "Thank you so much." I told her. "I never would have found it." She gave me another odd look before muttering something.

She left pretty quickly and I placed the patients chart in the clear holder outside their room. Someone would come and pick it up, and that patient would be seen again. Which wouldn't hurt him any, but it would just be a waste of time since I didn't put anything new in the chart. 

I didn't know how long Sam's interview would last, so I decided to head back though the unlocked door into the maintenance room again. I removed my doctor's jacket and stethoscope, because a doctor wouldn't really be here. Or at least I'd have to have a pretty odd excuse.

It wasn't much longer till Sam came back through the same door. "Did it go well?" I asked as we navigated our way back to the impala. "Yeah, it did. Great distraction. I would've never been able to get in there and have enough time to interview her."

Once we were in the car, Sam caught me up on all the information he learned from her. "So let me get this straight." I said, leaning back further in the passenger's seat. "An angel came down and told her to kill someone?" I mean, I've learned about some pretty odd stuff.

"Well basically, yeah." Sam said. We were probably a few minutes out from the motel room. I wonder how Dean would react to this. "So my first hunt is going to be an angel?" I asked.

"Potentially." He said. This seemed odd to me. "Why would an angel tell her to kill someone? Aren't they suppose to be, I don't know, nice?" I asked. Sam laughed at me. "I don't know, I've never met one before. But, I understand what you're trying to say." He replied.

The two of us got out of the car and headed up to the motel room. I had his scrubs and my jacket packed away in my bag, which I was holding, so Sam had to get the door for me.

Dean was lying on one of the beds, which was vibrating. These boys are just full of surprised. "What are you doing?" I asked. "Hey." Dean said, his eyes half open. "Man, you gotta try this. I mean there really is magic in the 'Magic Fingers'."

Sam and I exchanged a concerned look. "Dean, you're enjoying that way too much. It's kind of making me uncomfortable." He said. I had to agree with me on that one. Sam explained the patient's story to Dean, who didn't believe it at all.

"Well, little odd yes, supernatural maybe. But angels? I don't think so." Dean said. Sam sighed and seemed upset about it, but I didn't understand. I thought these two would believe in anything like that. I mean they told me a story about a shape shifting person, and that alone was pretty hard to swallow. But angels? That didn't seem too unbelievable.

"Why not?" I asked, taking a seat on Sam's bed. That question seemed to get him rallied up a bit. "Cause, there's no such thing!" Dean replied. Sam took a seat on the bed next to me. "Dean, there's ten times as much lore about angels as there is about anything else we've ever hunted."

And he was right. When doing research, I found more things on angels than some of the other things that they've hunted. "Yeah, you know what?" Dean said, sitting up on his shaking bed. "There's a ton of lore on unicorns too. In fact, I hear that they ride on silver moonbeams, and they shoot rainbows out of their ass."

Sam looked confused. "Wait, there's no such thing as unicorns?" He said.

I started laughing, but the boys gave me an unamused look. I really didn't think that they were serious. "You believe in unicorns?" I asked Sam. He looked up at me and pursed his lips, something he did when he was annoyed.

"Yeah, that's real cute." Dean said, clearly getting upset about this whole angle thing. "I'm just saying man, there's just some legends that you just file under 'bullcrap'." The boys continued to argue for a while, but I went into the bathroom to get away from it. After all, I deserved a nice shower after today.

The shower was pretty gross and rusted out but still useable. I just stayed away form standing on the moldy parts of it. I took a quick one so I could get changed and go to bed. It was my turn to sleep on the couch. Lucky me.

I put my hair up in a towel and came out. Only Dean was in sight. "Hey." He said, not raising his eyes from the magazine he was reading. "Hey." I replied, setting my bag down next to the couch.

"Sam said you didn't get to sit in on his interview." Dean said, finally dropping the magazine to talk to me. I took a seat on the couch and turned so I could see him. "I didn't." I stated. Dean nodded and we sat there in silence till he spoke again.

"Said you created a pretty good distraction." Which was true, it was pretty good. "Yeah." I said, picking at my fingernails. Neither of us said much for another few minutes.

"You know, we got off to a pretty bad start." Dean said. I looked up and over at him. "You tied me to a chair." I replied. "You kicked my knee out of place." He said without missing a beat.

There was another moment of silence between us. "Touché." I said. That made Dean smile, and so I did too. "But you know, being tied up by me in another situation wouldn't have been so bad." He teased, giving me a wink.

"I'm not so sure about that." I teased back. Those two weren't the only ones with smart remarks. "Really? I'm surprised." Dean said, getting up off the bed to go to the fridge.

"You're totally not my type." I replied. Dean did seem a bit surprised about my comment, but I wanted to be totally clear that I was not interested in him. I mean, he was very attractive but we didn't have any chemistry.

"Shame." He said, pulling the top off his drink. "Beer?" He asked. I shook my head no and Dean shut the fridge. "Plus," He added, taking a seat on the couch with me. "I'm not into all that kind of stuff."

I propped my feet up on the coffee table. "Sure." I said. Dean tipped his head back and took a gulp of his drink. "I'm serious!" He said, wiping his mouth. "That's more of a Sam thing."

I almost choked. "As in your brother Sam?" I asked. Dean looked amused as he took another sip of his beer. "That's the one." He said. Wow. He was so sweet though. Dean was still joking. Probably.

"It's odd you know your brother's sexual kinks." I said. "I bet there's a story behind that." Dean laughed and kicked his feet up on the coffee table next to mine. "First hand experience?" I joked. Dean looked like he was going to hit me over the head with his beer.

"Very funny." He said, in a very unamused voice. "All those lonely nights in these crappy motels." I carried on. Dean shook his head. "Shut your face, or I'll tie you to another chair." He replied. I laughed. From this point on, Dean would become one of my best friends.

"But in all seriousness," Dean said. "Sam is pretty fond of you." I couldn't help but laugh again. "Fond of me?" I asked.

As if on que, Sam walked through the door, his arms full of grocery bags. "Hey guys, I brought back…" He stopped suddenly in the middle of his sentence as his eyes scanned over Dean and I sitting together on the couch.

"Is everything okay?" Sam asked instead. Dean and I hadn't been the closest over the few months. Heck, some days we didn't even really speak to one another. It probably seemed odd that the two of us were all the sudden sitting next to one another talking.

"Yeah, totally fine." Dean answered, standing up off the dingy couch. "Did you get any pie?" Sam rolled his eyes and shut the door with his foot. "Course I did." He mumbled.

His long arms dropped all the bags down on the table. Dean looked slightly horrified, probably worried his precious dessert was squished. Sam didn't care too much. He removed his coat and put it on the chair near his bed.

Dean scavenged though the bags looking for the junk food. Sam typically ate a lot of healthy things, which is what I tried to do too. But sometimes I was like Dean and wanted to consume a whole bag of potato chips and a beer.

I got up off the couch and grabbed Dean's empty beer bottle, tossing it in the trash can near the kitchette. "Heads up." Dean said, throwing something in my face. I caught it before it hit me. Fritos. Guess those would have to do. I pulled the plastic apart and dug in.

"Nice catch." Dean said. I leaned up against the other chair that was free at the table. "Thanks. You threw it pretty hard." I said, reaching back in the bag for more of the salty chips.

"I was hoping it would hit you, that's why." Dean reasoned. Sam rolled his eyes and sat down on his bed. From his bag he pulled out his laptop. That thing was practically sacred to him. Knowing Sam, he was going to look up angel lore until 1:00am.

"Uh, rude." I said. Dean made a face at me as he started to unwrap the pie box. The laptop made a noise as it turned on. Within a few seconds, he was typing. What was up? "Are you going to eat anything?" I asked, my doctor instincts kicking in.

Sam almost seemed annoyed with my question. "Not hungry." Was the only thing I got out of him. Dean noticed his change in mood too. "Dude, what's with the sulking? Cute cashier card you for beer again?" He asked. Which definitely wasn't going to help any.

The only thing Sam did past that comment was type on his computer. Dean and I exchanged eye contact. Lifting my hand up, I pointed to myself and then to Sam. I think Dean was trying to tell me something important when Sam came though the door.

He nodded discretely. "Well, I think I'll go shower now." Dean announced, grabbing his back and heading to the bathroom. He turned and gave me a wink before closing the door. What the heck did he think I was trying to say? Was he trying to set the two of us up? What an idiot.

I took a seat on the bed next to Sam. On his laptop there was a beautiful picture of an angel, fighting off some monster. "Are you sure you're feeling okay?" I asked. If he was sick, there was probably something I could do about it.

"Yeah," Sam said, putting on this fake voice that he uses sometimes. I may not have been with the Winchesters for very long, but I picked up their quirks easily. "I'm really just tired, you know?" It didn't make any sense to me, but I wasn't going to push.

"Yeah." I said. "If you need any help with research, let me know." I stood up to toss my trash away. Sam didn't say much. The couch didn't have a pull out bed so I draped a blanket over the worn cushions. That should do. I used the other arm rest to prop my feet up on and I laid down. After Dean was done with the shower I would go in and change into my pajamas and then go to bed.

"Do you believe in angels?" Sam asked me. Earlier I considered the same question when we were in the car. Growing up, I was raised by a strict Catholic family so I didn't have a choice as a kid to decide what I believed. After college and medical school I did end up sticking to the Christian faith, but I didn't consider myself Catholic. I guess it wasn't really defined, but I believed, and that's all that matters.

"Trauma orthopedic surgery has shown me some pretty horrible things." I said, looking up at the ceiling. "Suicide attempts, car and boating accidents, equipment malfunction injuries, and some other pretty gory things." I could still hear the click of computer keys as I was talking.

"I've seen people make a full recovery from something that could easily kill them. Someone has to be watching over them. So yes, I certainly do believe in angels." Sam remained silent for a moment. "Me too." He said.

"Would you like to take my bed, and I'll take the couch?" He asked. "No," I said. "I'm okay." There was some shifting on the bed and Sam appeared at the side of the couch. "At least use a pillow." He insisted, handing me one. I smiled and took it. "Goodnight." I said. Sam returned my smile and headed back to his bed. "Goodnight." Maybe he was fond of me like Dean said. And maybe I was growing fond of him.


	6. July, 2007

July, 2007

The three of us stumbled into the motel room, clearly all tired from investigating the crime scene and interviewing everyone. Dean would probably want to go eat in an hour or five minutes, so we would all have go get up and go. I didn't really want to eat anything after what we saw today.

"I am exhausted. Who knew all that snooping could be so tiring!" Ronnie said, taking a seat on the end of one of the beds. Dean laughed while he went into the bathroom. "What, do you think we do nothing all day?"

My bag was on the counter of the kitchenette, so I dug though it to find my laptop. Once we investigated, it was my turn to do some research. Local legends, folk tales, and articles on creatures you wouldn't even imagine. Some of it was pretty weird, I'll admit, but most of the information was legitimate. Not to mention Bobby and dad's journal were both a lot of help.

"Some days Dean, you do exactly that." I said. Ronnie let out a laugh and leaned back onto the bed so she was lying down. I opened up my laptop on the table and powered it up.

"I do a heck of a lot, Sam." Dean said, rummaging though the kitchenette for something to eat. Ronnie had done the honors of shopping for this week.

"Would you like to do some research then?" I asked, typing my password to unlock my computer. "No, I'm starving." Dean replied. I could hear the crinkles of what probably was a chip bag. "My point exactly." I muttered.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Ronnie get up of the bed. "I'd be willing to help." I tried not to laugh, because it seemed like a sincere offer. "No offence, but you still wouldn't have a clue what to look for." We were hunting something I didn't even know about. She wouldn't know where to start.

She frowned, unsatisfied with my answer. "Come on, it's not like I don't have a research background at all. I'm sure I could be of some assistance." Sighing, I thought of something she could do. "Why don't you look though the paper, see if you can find any other deaths like this one around here."

Ronnie nodded, and picked up the stack of newspapers on the end table beside the couch. "Easy enough. See? I'm not totally useless." She said, taking a seat across the table from me. I nodded and continued to search the internet for local legends.

"Kale chips? You're telling me these chips are made of vegetables?" Dean shouted from the kitchen. I looked up at Ronnie from my laptop screen. "Dean, they are healthier for you. Its not completely kale, either. They have spinach, corn, and carrots." She said. Adding those details wasn't going to help her case any.

"What is it with you guys and buying bad food? How am I supposed to survive off freaking seaweed chips and spring water?" Dean shouted. I laughed, but it came out more of a snort. "Dude, its kale, not kelp."

Ronnie laughed too, but at my comment or snort I couldn't tell. "Maybe if you don't complain, I'll buy you pie." She was beginning to figure out Dean pretty quickly. I smiled. "Ah, come on! You just can't pay me off with pie!"

"What if I made you one? Not any of that store-bought stuff. Just a nice homemade pie." Ronnie replied, scanning the obituary sections. There was some more crinkling of the bag and I could hear Dean chewing. "You know, these aren't half bad." He said. Ronnie and I exchanged glances and she smiled.

Dean turned on the small TV in the room as the two of us continued to do research. About an hour passed before I realized I was hungry. "Well, I've got nothing for you, Sam." Ronnie said. "No one died recently in the same manner as our victim." Well, that would save me the time of going though all those papers then. "Okay, thanks." I said, focused on an article I had just pulled up.

"What do you guys do for fun while at these old motels anyways?" She asked, leaning up against the back of the couch. "Mostly watch TV, eat, you know, the usual." I could hear her laugh. "There is nothing usual about your lifestyle, that's for sure." She couldn't have been more right. I just wish she had stopped talking there though.

"You know, we've worked hard today. We should go do something fun!" Dean said. I didn't say anything, and neither did Ronnie. "It's still warm outside, and there's a pool outside, so that means there has to be a hot tub." He continued.

"Really? I love hot tubs!" Ronnie replied. I rolled my eyes. "Guys, we don't even have swimsuits with us." I added. Someone had to be reasonable. The TV shut off and Ronnie and Dean headed towards the table. "Who says we need any?" Dean replied.

Looking up from my laptop, I scanned both of their faces and figured they were serious. "You look horrified!" Ronnie said. I didn't mean to, honestly, but come on. "We will just strip down to our skivvies and sit in the hot tub, no big deal!" Dean urged, but I still thought the two of them were crazy.

"You know what, fine." I said, closing the lid to my laptop. "But I'm just sticking my feet in." The two of them high fived and I really was tempted to roll my eyes again. "Let's go! I'll grab the towels!" Ronnie said, heading off the bathroom. As soon as she was out of earshot, Dean gave me a look. "What?" I asked. I didn't understand. "Dude, what's wrong with you? You were going to pass this up?"

I sighed. "Dean, stop playing matchmaker. She obviously likes you anyways." Dean looked at me like I was crazy. He opened his mouth to say something but Ronnie returned, so he kept his mouth shut, still glaring at me.

The two of them bounded out the door and I locked up again. I caught up quickly while they were debating which way the pool actually was. "It's to your right, Dean." Ronnie insisted. "No, I coulda sore it was that way." Dean said, pointing the opposite direction.

They turned to look at me of course. "It's to our right." I said. "Told you." Ronnie didn't miss a beat telling Dean he was wrong. Again, I wanted to roll my eyes. "Come on then," Dean said, "I'll race you there!"

Ronnie fell for it and took off running, while Dean didn't even change the pace of his walking. "She fell for it." He muttered, half surprised she did. I couldn't help but laugh. "Dean, you would do that to me all the time when we were kids."

Ronnie didn't slow down though, and beat us both to the pool. "Did you fall?" Ronnie teased, still trying to catch her breath. "Yeah, he tripped and fell on his face. It was hilarious." I said, using the motel key to unlock the gate to the pool.

"I decided last minute I didn't want to race you." Dean said as the three of us entered the gated area. It was like a typical cheap motel pool, but there was actually a hot tub in this one like Dean said.

He didn't hesitate to take off his shirt and pants. What else was new though? Tossing his clothes on the nearest chair, he stuck his foot in the hot tub. "It's actually hot." He said.

"Really? So that's why it's called a hot tub?" I said. Dean didn't hear me though. Ronnie began to remove the jacket she was wearing over her shirt. "Can I take your coat?" I asked. I had no clue where that came from. Why did I have to feel so nervous?

"Why, thank you Samuel." She said, mocking my formality. I grabbed the coat from her shoulders and draped it over the chair next to the one Dean's clothes were tossed on. "Your welcome, doctor." I replied.

I awkwardly looked away as she removed her shirt and skirt. Dean was still giving me a look from the hot tub, and I shrugged. I didn't know what he wanted. "Are you just going to stand there?" She asked me. Actually, I was planning on it.

"Come on, the water's fine Sammy!" Dean shouted from the hot tub. "Yeah, Sammy," Ronnie said, stressing my nickname, "You should join us." Looking over at her, she was down to her tank top.

I pulled my jacket off and threw it on top of Dean's before unbuttoning my shirt and tossing it aside too. Pulling my t-shirt up and over my head, I then pulled my socks off. Dang it, Dean. Why did you get me into this? I quickly undid my belt and looked up to meet Ronnie's eyes. She stood there, mouth slightly agape, looking at me funny.

"What?" I asked. I didn't know what was wrong. Maybe my hair was funny or something? She appeared to be at a loss of words. "I…" She didn't complete her sentence though.

Wait, was she checking me out? She continued to undress, pulling her stockings off and then her skirt to reveal some sort of tight fitting undergarment. I unbuttoned my pants and placed them on the chair with the rest of my clothes. "Are you just going to stand there?" I asked, catching her glance again. She smirked and headed towards the hot tub. I followed her, gladly.

"Spanx? Really?" Dean asked her as she got in. I wanted to tell him to shut up. "Well, not all of us look like the Winchester brothers, okay. Cut me some slack." She said, sinking down into the water to sit on the ledge.

I couldn't help but laugh. "We aren't anything to aspire to look like." Dean gave me an odd look. "Dude are you kidding me? Are you even looking at me right now?" I shook my head. "With as much junk food as you eat, I guess you do look in shape." Ronnie laughed and I couldn't help but laugh too. "Your right!" She agreed. "As much food as I've seen that man eat, those abs are a supernatural occurrence."

The two of us laughed as Dean looked very offended. "You're just jealous because I'm the better looking one of us."

"Uh-huh, sure Dean." I said sarcastically. "This right here, is the body of a god." I lost it at that. Dean started to get up out of the hot tub. "Come on, I'm just kidding!" I said, not wanting Dean to leave. "I'm grabbing a beer."

And so it was Ronnie and I left in the hot tub together. Once again, this was awkward. "I think we offended him." Ronnie said. I shook my head no. "He takes a joke well."

Looking up at her, I noticed she was still staring at me, and not my face.

"What does your tattoo mean?" She asked at last. My hand ran over it after she mentioned it. "It's the anti-possession mark." I said. Ronnie nodded, but I could tell she didn't know what that was. "Like to prevent being possessed by a demon?" She asked, her voice quieter than before.

"Yeah, like that." I replied. She no longer looked like the cheery person she was moments before. "Hey, you can't blame yourself for that." She was pretty hard on herself after what happened to her parents. "It happens to more people than you would imagine." I continued. I guess my consolation skills aren't up to par yet, because she didn't appear to feel any better about it.

I shifted uncomfortably, wishing Dean would hurry up. "It seems like you always have to kill them." She replied. It was the truth though.

"What about their families? Or kids?" Ronnie asked. I couldn't look at her though because she was right. "I'm sorry." She quickly added. "I know how difficult this job is." We didn't say anything else, but when I looked up, she looked at me like one would look at an injured animal.

Dean practically jumped into the hot tub, splashing the two of us. "What was that for?" Ronnie asked, wiping the water off her face. Typical Dean. "You looked too dry." He said, taking a sip of his beer.

"What did I miss?" He asked, trying to make a joke. I ran a hand though my now wet hair but didn't say anything. "Oh, I was just asking about the tattoo." Ronnie said. Dean rubbed his chest and smiled. "Keeps the demons away. Are you looking to ink up?"

Ronnie practically snorted. "Oh, gosh no! Can you imagine?" I smiled but Dean was serious. "Yeah, I can. You could get it on your arm or somewhere." Ronnie laughed again and I gave Dean a look. "She's a medical professional, she can't have that showing while she's working."

Ronnie nodded in agreement. "Especially something satanic." Now it was our turn to laugh. "Satanic? No, sweetheart, its not satanic." Dean laughed. It was a common misconception, I'd give her that. "What is it then?" Dean and I looked at each other and shrugged. "I…I really don't have a good answer to that." He said at last.

"Still, I think I'll pass. A tramp stamp of a pentagram isn't exactly my style." Dean almost dropped his beer in the hot tub, but I laughed. "I didn't say tramp stamp!" He said. "You said 'arm or somewhere', so she could have implied it." I said. Still, I thought it was pretty funny.

Dean shook his head and finished his drink. It was getting late and we had work to do tomorrow. "We probably should head back soon, guys." I said. Dean sighed and leaned up against the wall. "Just chill, Sammy." He said.

Ronnie understood that we really did need to get back to the motel room and grabbed Dean's beer from his hands. "Come on, pretty boy. Your brother's right, lets go."

She got up out of the tub with his beer still in her hands. "Pretty boy? Wait, give me that back!" He shouted, leaping up out of the hot tub to get his beer back. Shaking my head, I got out too.

Ronnie tipped the drink over and poured what was left of it in the grass. "No! That was perfectly good beer!" Ronnie handed him back the bottle. "As a doctor, I need to remind you that there are no liver transplant surgeries."

I could hear Dean groan as I dug though the pile of clothes to find my own. "Hey! Give that back!" I could hear Ronnie shout. Turning around, Dean had her shirt way above her head. Even though he was shorter than me, he was still six feet tall, which is a whole foot taller than Ronnie.

"You know, I don't really want to." Dean teased. Sighing, she began to pull her skirt back on. "Come on, all I've got on is this tank top! Give it!" She shouted again.

"Dude, just give it back to her." I said, pulling on my pants. Dean looked at me like I was crazy. "She messed with my alcohol!"

Digging though the clothes, I found Dean's jeans. "Give it back to her, Dean." I warned him again. He dangled her shirt over her head, but her arms were a few inches too short to grab it.

"Fine, you asked for it." I tossed his jeans right into the hot tub before he could say another word. Ronnie lost it, and I about did too when I saw Dean's face. While he was in shock, she pulled her shirt from his hands. "Sam…" Dean sounded like I betrayed him.

"Karma, Dean. Karma." Ronnie said, pulling her shirt on over her head. Dean stood there in disbelief of what I did. After pulling my shirt on, I grabbed my jacket. Dean fished his jeans out of the pool.

"This is cruel." Dean said as the two of us were dressed and ready to head back. "Oh, its not like anyone's going to see you." Ronnie said, trying not to laugh. "Take your walk of shame, Dean." I said, unlocking the gate so we could leave.

The three of us made it to the room without too many people giving us odd looks. I'd say that was a success, considering we were all wet and Dean was in his underwear.

"I'm taking a shower." Dean said, tossing his wet jeans on my bed. I made a face and tossed them onto his bed once I heard the bathroom door shut.

"You want anything?" Ronnie asked as she entered the kitchen. For some reason, I didn't have much of an appetite today. "No, I'm good actually. Thanks." I said, pulling dry clothes out of my bag.

She took a seat at the end of Dean's bed, eating a granola bar. "I better head over to my room now. I'm cold from wearing wet clothes." She stated. Ronnie gathered her stuff together she brought in our room.

"You can, you know, uh, stay here." I said before she turned the door handle. I knew she was afraid. I grew up with all of this stuff, and I couldn't begin to imagine being thrown into it all so suddenly.

"I don't have my pajamas here and all my stuff is in the other room already…" I didn't listen to the rest of her excuses. Pulling a flannel out of my bag, I tossed it to her. "Take my bed. I'll fit on the couch." Ronnie began to object, but I interrupted. "I just thought you might not want to be alone. Especially after today."

She stopped talking and her face went blank. "Your right." She said at last. "I'm pretty pathetic." She laughed dryly, but I didn't agree. "You just don't want to die," I replied "And that's not pathetic at all."


	7. September, 2007

Contains spoilers for Season 2

September, 2007

"Get your feet off that." I said. The sun was just now at the right angle to blind me though the windshield. I pulled my sunglasses out of my jacket pocket and put them on. There really wasn't much to this town, but I still needed to look for a grocery store. If I didn't, we would starve. A hungry Dean is an angry Dean, let me tell you.

"What Dean doesn't know won't kill him." Ronnie said, refusing to take her feet off the dashboard. Somehow he would find out. He always did. Her heels reflected more of the sunlight, causing me to look away. It was always a sight to see her in business clothes.

Ronnie, Dean, and I worked a case earlier this morning, and it looked like we were going to stay here for the time being. That meant finding a motel and gathering food. Usually I would just hit up a gas station and get this and that, but Ronnie wanted an actual supermarket.

"Sorry," She said after I didn't reply for some time. "Bad choice of words." They were because Dean was going to die, and it was all my fault. He sold his soul for me so I would live. The guilt that came with that ate away at my mind. It's what kept me up at night. Dean was going to hell, and I had to stop it.

"It's just a saying after all." I said. I didn't want her to feel bad about it. She still kept her heels up on the dashboard as we entered the populated area of this town. Ronnie rolled down the window to let the warm breeze in. I knew that she loved fall so I didn't ask her to close it.

"Some music okay?" She asked me, pulling down her shades to look at me. "Yeah," I said, trying to change lanes without running the car beside me off the road. "Dean's not here, so anything you want to listen to."

Ronnie sat up some more in her chair and fiddled with the radio knobs. The wind caught the car and rushed in, blowing her hair around her in a mess. A cute mess, but a mess.

I pulled up to the stoplight at the end of the road and stopped. Gently I brushed her hair off my jacket sleeve. Ronnie turned to me with a devilish grin before cranking up the radio on full.

My knees hit the steering wheel as the sound of a guitar blared though the speakers. "Damn it, Ronnie!" I shouted. She didn't hear me, or at least pretended not to. Another car pulled up beside us at the stoplight and stared at me, jaws agape and ears plugged.

"Come on, feel the noise, Sammy!" Ronnie screamed, jamming out to the Quiet Riot song. She belted out the lyrics and the guys in the car beside us lost it. I wanted this light to hurry up and change.

"Am I embarrassing you?" She asked, realizing my reaction to all this. Dean would always try to do stuff like this to me when I was younger. It was humiliating as a kid to have an odd family. Nothing could ever be normal. But Ronnie was just trying to blow off steam from working a case, she didn't mean any harm.

Her hand reached for the radio, I assumed she was going to shut it off. I let one hand on the steering wheel and used the other to push her hand away. Making sure the idiots in the other car could see, I pressed my middle and ring finger against my palm, crossing my thumb over it. Sticking my tongue out, I attempted to mimicking Gene Simmons. Screw normalcy.

Ronnie stated at me before erupting in a fit of laughter. The light changed green then and I punched it. The impala took off quick, leaving the others behind. She let out a shout and then laughed again. I haven't seen her laugh like that before.

"You are awesome!" She screamed over the music. That made me smile. "I can't let you have all the fun." I replied. Ronnie turned it down so we didn't have to scream. The parking lot to the grocery store was up on my right. I slowed down enough so I could make the turn.

This must have been the only grocery store for a few miles because it was pretty crowded. Parking was bad, but the two of us eventually found a spot. We got out of the impala and headed towards the entrance of the store. My ears were still ringing.

"I can't hear." Ronnie said, "Guess I shouldn't have had it that loud." I laughed as we headed inside. She grabbed a shopping cart and pulled out this crinkled paper list. "You actually made a list?" I asked, taking the cart from her.

"Yeah. Do you want to hold my purse too?" She teased. I didn't realize it was a joke and so I took her bag. Ronnie smiled. "I was joking, silly." She took her purse back and started walking away, so I followed her.

Ronnie would walk around and I trailed behind, watching her mark things off the list and place them into the cart. She was great to watch. Especially walking around in those heels. And the pencil skirt. It probably was a bit odd though, two people dressed up like federal agents doing mundane things.

"Chocolate or peanut butter?" She asked, holding up two different granola boxes. "Peanut butter." I said, and she placed it into the cart. Turning around, she scanned the isle down to the end.

"Why are you watching me?" Oops. Her skills must have been better than I thought. "I'm not," I lied. Because I was, but not intently as our surroundings. "Someone has to be on the lookout for something that might want to show up and kill us." I said in a hushed voice.

"Well that makes me feel much better." Ronnie said flatly. I didn't really have a good reply to that though. What else was I supposed to say? It was true. "Sorry." I muttered as we headed down the baking isle.

"Are you making a cake?" I asked her. Ronnie laughed. Guess not. "I'm looking for sugar." Oh. I followed slowly behind her, getting tired of walking around. But I didn't complain.

She was so focused on finding sugar she ran directly into the man standing near her. "Oh, I'm so sorry!" She apologized, backing up. This guy looked familiar. It was that medical examiner we met with this morning. The young one, with perfect teeth and nice hair. Not that I cared.

"Dr. Perry?" The man asked her. It clicked and Ronnie remembered who he was. "Hey, funny seeing you here!" She said, and the two of them laughed. I didn't. "Finding your way around town alright?" He asked. I rolled my eyes and headed towards those two.

"Everything alright?" I interrupted their current conversation and made eye contact with the doctor before looking at Ronnie. "Yeah." She said. "This is the medical examiner from this morning, Dr. James."

I turned my attention back to him. "I remember now!" I said. "Any new leads?" One of my hands pushed back my jacket ever so subtly to reveal my badge and gun on my belt. James looked at my waist and back up at me. "Nothing new at this point." He answered.

"Well, I better get going though. More work to do." He gave us a nod before disappearing down another isle. I grabbed the cart and followed Ronnie again. "You know," She said, grabbing a bag of chips. "You didn't have to show him your gun."

Dang it. I thought she didn't see that. "I was scratching my side." I lied, which Ronnie didn't buy. "Sure. Ever so conveniently reminding Dr. James you're armed." She replied, turning around to look at me.

"Did you want to speak with him?" I asked, trying to turn the tables around. I could hear Ronnie sigh. "Did you not want me to?" She asked. Well, yes. I didn't say anything and just continued following her around.

"Not really." I said as we got out of the food section and into the soap and stuff like that. "What?" Ronnie asked. "I didn't really want you to talk to him," I repeated. "But I'll stay out of it next time."

Ronnie picked up a bottle of shampoo and put it in the cart. "Maybe I didn't really want to talk to him either." She said. Wait, so now she says this? Why are women so confusing?

"So are you mad at me, or what?" I asked. Ronnie laughed. "No, I'm not. I guess I would've done the same thing if you were talking to an attractive woman." She replied. Wow, that came as a shock to me. Maybe she had feelings for me too that I didn't know about.

"You would?" I asked, but she didn't reply. Ronnie rounded the corner before stopping. "I need to get some feminine products." She said before walking away. "Uh, right, sure thing." I said. "I'll just…I'll wait." I said, unsure of what to really do.

It was crowded so I moved the cart over to one side of the isle and pretended to look at the products. That's usually what I would do if people were in the way. Pretend to be looking at stuff you didn't really need. Except I picked the wrong section, because these were all condoms. And I thought I couldn't get more uncomfortable.

The cart moved and I turned to see Ronnie placing her…things into the cart. She raised her eyebrows and gave me a look, eying the isle and then me. My face flushed and I stood there like an idiot with my mouth open.

"I…" As much as I wanted to speak, the words weren't coming to me. I didn't even know how to explain this situation. Ronnie stared, waiting for me to say something. But I couldn't.

She awkwardly took the box I was looking at and placed it in the cart before turning around and walking down another isle. "Wait!" I said, turning around to follow her. "I-uh, I don't need…this." Ronnie was too far away to hear me.

There wasn't much more on her list that she had to get, but we didn't talk much the rest of the time. I wanted to hit my head on this cart but I refrained from doing so. I've had enough attention already for today. I certainly wasn't going to draw any more to myself.

"Well I think that's all." Ronnie said, holding onto the end of the cart. "Let's go check out so we can go back to the motel and get something to eat." She headed towards the registers but I stopped her.

"We didn't grab any beer." I told her. She shrugged. "Do you guys really need it?" I laughed pretty hard. "Dean needs it." I replied. Ronnie didn't look to sure. "If we don't get him any, we will have all sorts of crazy on our hands. Remember last time when you forgot the pie?"

Ronnie stopped walking and turned around, her eyes wide. "We need beer." She said. I knew that would convince her. "Where is the alcohol even at?" The two of us looked at the signs overhead that showed what items were down each isle.

"At the back, near the soda." I said, finally finding a sign for it. The two of us headed back that way. I loaded it into the car because I knew what Dean liked and didn't like. "Is that enough?" Ronnie asked, making sure that she wasn't going to be bothered again.

"Yeah, plenty." I replied. "Let's go." The checkout lines were long, but time went by pretty quickly. Ronne skimmed through a few magazines that were on the end cap. She made a face and put one of them up.

The people in front of us finally moved out of the way so I could start putting food up on the conveyer belt. Ronnie realized we had moved and helped me. I couldn't bring myself to look up at the cashier as he rang out items up. Ronnie put her hand over her mouth as if she was sneezing, but she was hiding her laughter.

"That will be $70.25." The cashier said. I swiped the fake credit card though the scanner and like always, it was accepted. "Just need your signature." He said. I nodded and signed Justin William's name on the machine. Sorry, Justin.

"Have a nice night." He said. "You too." I replied, taking the receipt from him. Ronnie pulled her cell phone out of her purse. "Gosh, I didn't even realize it's already 6." She said. I hadn't either.

We loaded the impala up with all our groceries and headed back to the motel. Her and I talked about the town we were staying in on the drive back. We were in the middle of Nebraska, so there wasn't too much out this way. The gruesome murder made the papers so that's how we found out about it.

I pulled up into the motel parking lot near the entrance of our room. I turned the car off and Ronnie got out to go pop the trunk. We had quite a few bags with us so I went to help too.

The light was on in our room so Dean was still awake and probably hungry. "There are only a few left." Ronnie told me as I made my way to the trunk. We had to set all the groceries on top of the guns and all the other crap we had in the trunk. It was a pretty comical sight.

I grabbed the four bags that were left and shut the trunk with my elbow. It was hard to lock it with the key, but I managed. "Okay, we should be room 103." I said. Ronnie nodded and smiled at me.

I set the bags on the top of the impala. Ronnie stopped and came back towards me. "What's wrong?" She asked. Reaching out for her, I grabbed her arm and pushed her up against the car. With my other hand, I held her face and kissed her as passionately as I knew how to.

Reason hit me soon after and I took a step back, letting go of her. All the shopping bags she had in her hands were on the ground. What the heck did I just do? Ronnie stared at me in sheer amazement, probably not sure what to think. Her face turned from shock to a smile and I could breathe again.

"This is going to complicate things." She said. After being stabbed in the back and brought back to life, I honestly didn't care. "I know." Was all I said. Ronnie grabbed my tie and pulled me back, kissing me instead this time.

It really was great, but I pulled away to stop her. "Dean." I said, "Dean could see this." Dean. I really didn't want him to know about this yet. I'd tell him eventually, but not right now.

"Okay." Ronnie said. "I spilt all these bags though. I'm sorry." I didn't mind. It was my fault, after all. Her and I picked everything up and put it back into a grocery sack and carried them into the motel room.

"Finally!" Dean said as we came in, getting up off the couch. Ronnie laughed and set some of the bags on the table. I put the ones in my hands on the bed. "What took so freaking long?" He asked.

"It was extremely crowded." Ronnie explained, pulling out the fried chicken and sushi rolls we got for dinner. It was a luxury to us because Dean and I would never buy sushi from a gas station ever again. And yes, there is a story behind that, but it's for another time.

"Long lines and lots of people." I added. Dean got up off the couch and headed over to Ronnie. "This looks good." He said, already opening up the beer case. I shook my head and tossed the plastic bags away.

"Sonovabitch!" Dean shouted. Both Ronnie and I turned around to face Dean, unsure of what was happening. "You smashed it!" He said. Dang it. When Ronnie dropped those bags, Dean's pie probably got crushed.

"You smashed my pie!" Dean repeated. Ronnie made eye contact with me and lost it. I laughed too, because he was so pissed. It was great. "I dropped it! I'm sorry!" Ronnie managed to say.

"Freakin' idiots." Dean muttered as he opened his beer up. The three of us sat on the couch with our premade food and beer. Ronnie and Dean argued about what to watch on TV, and she told him about cranking the radio up in the car and me punching it at a stoplight. And I didn't want that night to end. I took another sip of beer and tried to forget the rest of the world.


	8. October, 2007

Content from Season 3, Episode 1: Magnificent Seven

October, 2007 

The light was still on in the motel room, which honestly surprised me. I thought Dean would have moved a lot quicker considering he didn't have much time before we would be on the road again.

In the drivers seat next to me, Sam sighed. He was holding up a small flashlight, scouring the pages of his book. I had never seen anyone read a book quite as fast as Sam could. He was looking for an answer to his problem. Dean's problem. He didn't want his brother to go to hell. And I'm sure Dean didn't really want to go either.

A shadow passed over us and I looked up to see Dean in the window. He gave us two thumbs up and an overly excited smile. I rolled my eyes. Sam gave him a nod, and with that, Dean closed the curtains. The lights in the background still shown through, creating a lovely silhouette of what was happening. I wasn't sure if I wanted to watch it either.

"Does he always make you wait in the car?" I teased Sam, trying to make this situation a bit less awkward. He let out a snort and turned the page. "Yes." He replied, playing along.

I knew it was late, and he was so focused on research. But then again, what was new. Slowly, Sam turned his head towards me, finally meeting my gaze. I looked up at him as best as I could. Look up though your eyelashes, I think is what I was trying to do. That was sexy, right?

"Why don't we move to the back seat?" Sam said at last, closing his book. Finally. I slipped by shoes off with feet. "More leg room." He added. Right. I tried not to laugh as he said it. Sam nodded towards the back, telling me to go first.

I put my laptop down on the side of my seat and climbed over the center console. I could see Sam move, hesitating on whether or not to help me back there. Pulling on the two seats, I was able to get myself into the back all right.

Sam's attempt was more comical. His height wasn't much help to him as he contorted himself to get back here. I could hear his head hit the top of the car a few times. He plopped down into the seat across from me and looked at he window to the motel room.

"Dean's pretty occupied." I said. Sam looked away and back at me, finally smiling for the first time tonight. "I wont tell him you roughed up the car if you wont." I added. Sam raised his eyebrows at me, turning his head to the side.

"What I meant to say was I wont tell him we climbed over the seats and that you hit your head. That might give him a heart attack." I clarified. I think we both knew where this was going though. Sam and I rarely got time alone. Either it was Dean or Bobby or someone else with us. Never just him and I. After our last few jobs, and that kiss, we haven't had time together.

And his death. Can't forget that one. Dean hadn't come back to the motel room that night. He sold his soul to bring Sam back. Now he was going to hell, and Sam was devoted to prevent that. I hoped he could.

"What about anything else that might happen? Will you tell him then?" Sam asked, leaning up off the back of the seat. "Not a word." I replied. Sam was sitting directly across from me now, just within arms reach. With that stupid smirk on his face too.

Grabbing the collar of his flannel shirt I pulled him down to my level and pressed my lips up against his. I think I surprised him, as he didn't kiss me back for a few seconds.

My head jolted back with a sharp tug. Sam's fingers had intertwined with my hair, pulling me away from his face. I had to lean back to accommodate the change in position. He placed his lips on my neck, gently kissing the skin, before biting on the flesh between his teeth. It didn't really hurt, but I dug my fingernails into his shoulders as compensation. I could feel him moan against my throat, and he looked up at me before kissing me properly on the lips.

It was rough, which surprised me more than anything. Sam was such a sweet guy, besides the whole killing thing, and it almost seemed out of place. But I kinda liked it. My hands moved from his shoulders to his hair, toughing on his like he was mine, and as I thought, it caused him to moan again. He was suppressing most of it, but it was still there.

Sam let go of my hair and pushed my shoulders down onto the seat of the Impala. I tried to move up to continue kissing him, but he held me down with a bit more pressure. What a tease.

He leaned forward, nudging my leg with his knee. I moved it over so he could put his leg down. Sam was trying to straddle my waist, so I let him. Where this was going was making me nervous though. Was I ready for it?

The pressure let up on my shoulders and Sam ran his hands down my arms. It made me shiver. He grabbed both my wrists with one hand and moved my arms to lie right next to my ears. With his free hand, he cupped my face and kissed me again. And did I ever love the feel of his lips back on mine.

I could sense his hips hovering above mine, which made me squirm. Sam's lips tightened into a smile as I moved. I still kissed his face as he moved even closer to me.

I decided to toy with him a bit by bending my knee up. He stopped moving closer to avoid my knee between his legs. Sam sighed and pulled his face back a few inches from mine. "Move." He demanded of me. I wasn't very threatened though.

I kissed the tip of his nose before saying "No." Sam tried to look annoyed, but I could tell he was trying not to smile. He placed himself onto my leg, trying to get me to move, rolling his hips. And let me tell you, it almost worked.

Sam sat up, clearly not wanting to toy with me anymore. His hands messed with his belt, trying to get it undone. And I kind of freaked out. "Sam," I said, "I don't think I want to do this."

He dropped his hands from the button on his jeans. "Sure." He said, trying to catch his breath. "Sure thing." He repeated. I felt guilty, but I couldn't do it. "I'm really sorry." I apologized, but it didn't make me feel much better.

"No, you're okay. You don't need to explain yourself, I can-" I sat up as he was speaking, totally forgetting the fact that my knee was between his legs. Sam let out a shout and grabbed his crotch.

"I'm so sorry!" I said. My first instinct was to reach out and touch him, probably from grabbing sick patients for so many years, but I didn't think before I touched him. His shout turned into a moan, which he didn't expect. I withdrew my hands an apologized again.

Sam sat back onto the seat and kept his hands between his legs. "Ronnie…it's fine." He said, still panting. I felt horrible, especially now. "I know, but I hit you pretty hard. I'm really sorry Sam. Do you need me to look at it?" I asked before really thinking about the context of this situation. Doctor instincts again.

Sam looked up at me with raised eyebrows for the second time tonight. "Not helping." He said through clenched teeth. I sat back and shut up, letting him catch his breath and for the pain to dissipate. His breathing became regular and he finally moved his hands away.

"I'm fine." Sam said as I opened my mouth to say sorry again. He finally smiled at me, and I smiled too. He began to say something, but stopped, his face instantly flushing pink.

My eyes followed his to the bulge in his pants. He instantly covered it up with his hands, and I laughed. "Sam, there's nothing to be embarrassed about." I took off my jacket and handed it to him. "Trust me, what's awkward is having a patient get one during an exam."

Sam took my jacket and draped it over his waist. I really didn't care, but it made him feel better. "I bet you have some horror stories then." He said, finally relaxing. I laughed again. "More than I'd like to have, that's for sure."

Which made Sam laugh. "Well, I'm sure you didn't help much." He said. I looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean?" I asked. "I stayed professional." Sam tried to backtrack his thinking. "I meant that you…you have, uh…"

"I have what?" I asked, trying not to laugh as he searched for words. The seat buzzed and Sam sighed. He muttered something under his breath before pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.

"Hey, Bobby." Sam said, and I assumed we were being called in on a case. I didn't listen in on the conversation much. From the front seat I pulled my stuff into the back. Sam would take shotgun, and Dean obviously would drive, so I was left with the back seat.

"That was Bobby. We've got a case." Sam said, handing me back my jacket. "I'll go get Dean." He opened the door and got out to go get him. From the sound of the music coming from his room, I highly doubted he was done.

Sam was back a few minutes later, looking absolutely disgusted. I take it I was right, Dean wasn't done. "He's…on his way." Sam said as he got into the passenger's side. I handed him my jacket as he sat down. "Thanks." He said, putting it on his lap.

"Look, I still feel horrible about-" Sam raised a hand to stop me from speaking. "Really Ronnie, forget about it. About the hurting me part. The unintentional hurting part. And definitely don't forget the rest, because-"

Dean got into the drivers seat, his hair a mess and clothes disheveled. He started the car and our conversation stopped. Dean had the biggest, dumbest smile on his face as he took off from the parking lot.

"Do you have a knife?" Sam asked him. Dean shook his head. "No, what for?" He asked. I bucked my seatbelt in the back as we hit another bump in the road going full speed. "So I can gouge my eyes out." Sam replied. I laughed.

"Sam, it's a natural thing. Isn't it, doc?" He asked me, his voice bright and cheery. I rolled my eyes. "Sex? Yes. But the orgy part, not so much. There's something psychological involved in that." Sam laughed pretty hard at that, and Dean scoffed.

"It was a threesome!" He defended. "It's called having fun. Maybe you should try it some time, Ronnie." Dean had me there. But I didn't have an interest in that. "Speaking of that, bet you two had some quality time, eh?" He nudged Sam, who rolled his eyes.

"I was researching on how to save you from going to hell." He said, and Dean bought it. "Yeah, yeah, I get it." Dean grumbled. There was finally silence again and I looked out the window at the scenery.

"Dude, why is her jacket on your lap?" Dean asked, and I could hear Sam sigh again. "I was cold." He replied. I had to bite my lip to keep my smile hidden. "But you're forehead is all sweaty." Dean said.

Sam acted calmly, but he was still searching for an excuse. "Fever." I chimed in. "If you're running a fever you could be sweating but feel cold." Which was totally true. Dean made a face. "Well keep you're germs over on that side of the car. Ronnie and I don't want to get sick."

Sam shook his head and held up his book again. Through the rear view mirror though, he gave me a grateful glance before going back to reading.


	9. May, 2008: Day 1

May, 2008: Day 1

Dean slammed on the breaks as we came to the intersection. "Quick light." He muttered. I nodded in agreement. The last thing we needed was a ticket for running the light.

This little town in Iowa was covered in beautiful red and orange trees. Soon the leaves will fall and it will become winter again. The temperature was already starting to drop at night.

Dean and I had been here for a few days, and today we received another call about a dead body near the river here. We didn't know if it was related, but it probably was. The original death that brought us here was near another body of water, making me think water was an important element to whatever this was that was killing.

"Looks like the police are still here." About three cars were present, one blocking off the road. They didn't tell us how gruesome this one was, but if they didn't want people seeing it from the road, it wasn't a good sign.

"Okay, I'll talk to police and take a look at the body." I said. From the glove box I pulled out our badges and my flashlight. It was getting too late at night to be able to see.

"I'll get the report from the witness who reported it this afternoon. She was jogging and found the body." Dean pulled over on the side of the road near the police car. "It's always the joggers." He added, getting out of the car.

I smiled and headed over to the scene with him. Fog rolled off the river and over the grass, making everything cloudy. "That's not creepy or anything." I said. Dean nodded and we walked though the damp grass and onto the trail the jogger must have been on.

"Hey, Agents Floyd and Jackson." Dean said, and I pulled out my badge for them to examine. "You called us about another death, possibly related to the previous one." I said, putting my badge away.

The policeman nodded and walked with me to the body while Dean found the jogger to speak to. "Body was found here this evening around 6:30pm by a woman who was out jogging. We think that this man and the other one that died a few days ago, died in the same manner."

Finally I could see the body under all the fog. Male, mid 20s it seemed, short brown hair, in slacks and a dress shirt. But no blood, which surprised me. Usually the crime scenes are horribly graphic, but not this one.

"So how did he die?" I asked. I bent down on my knees to examine the body better. No wounds at all. "The examiner said it was from asphyxiation." I nodded and put on a pair of gloves. Gently I pulled the man's eyelids apart. All the blood vessels were strained, a few even busted.

Next I looked at the neck. No lacerations or ligature marks. Odd. If someone is killed by asphyxiation, they are usually strangled, but this guy didn't have any marks around his neck. But yet, he looked like he was strangled. This was definitely related to the other case.

"If you're looking for any marks, the body's clean." A female voice said. I still continued to look at the body for anything odd. There had to be something I was missing.

"The skin on his hands is very soft, like its been in water for some time. Eyes show signs of petechial hemorrhaging, one of the telltale signs of asphyxiation." She continued. "Died around 10:00pm or 11:00pm last night."

I took a look at his hands like she said. The top layer of skin started to slide off the palm and I set the hand back down. Gross. That was definitely something I needed to know in order to track this thing down.

"Agent Jackson, this is Dr. Ross, our makeshift medical examiner." The policeman informed me. "We are a rural area and don't have our own examiner here." He explained.

I stood up from the body and wiped my hands on the side of my pants. "Nice to be working with you Dr. Ross." I said, taking my eyes off the body. My heart leaped out of my chest as I made eye contact with her.

She dropped the bag she had with her on the ground and fell onto her knees. Looking up at me, her eyes rolled back and she fainted, landing on her side. Dang it.

I rushed forward as she hit the ground. My fingers found her pulse in her neck. Thank goodness. As carefully as I could, I pulled her up onto myself, wrapping my arms around her torso, allowing her head to fall onto my chest. I scooted her sideways so I could get an arm under her legs.

"I'm going to take her up to the others, get her some water or something to eat." The policeman was already picking up her bag. "I'll meet you up there." He said. Standing up, I adjusted her in my arms.

I couldn't believe I was holding her again. I wasn't happy she was working a case, but I was also kind of proud too. Ronnie had dyed her hair brown now. She must work around here, hunting in her free time. What a hobby that was. She was lighter in my arms than before, and I could tell she lost some weight. That wasn't totally ideal, because she was either stressed or not eating well. Still, I was overjoyed I was holding her again.

"Dude, is that the body?" Dean asked as he came into view, taking a few steps back. His expression changed from disgust to confusion as I got closer. "Why do you look so happy?" He asked.

I tried not to look so happy, especially since Ronnie hadn't waked back up yet. "Medical examiner passed out." I said, "Do you have a bottle or water?" One of the others had one and gave it to Dean.

"Pour a little on her face." I told him. Dean got closer and splashed some water in her face. It got on my suit jacket, but I didn't care. Ronnie made a noise and tried to sit up, then realized she wasn't on the ground.

"Well I'll be damned…" Dean said, now smiling along with me. Ronnie started coughing a bit and was coming back to reality. "Dean, is that you?" She asked. Instantly she looked back up at me, smiling.

"Sam?" She said, her voice almost a whisper. I gently set her down on her feet again, but she wouldn't let go of my sleeve. "What are you guys doing here?" She asked. "I thought I'd never see either of you again."

I definitely wasn't happy with her decision to continue working cases, but I was sorta pleased at the same time. She really did turn out be become a good hunter, which is something neither Dean or I saw back when we first found her.

"Well, this is our kind of case." Dean said. Ronnie let go of my jacket sleeve and managed to stay standing up. I watched her though, just in case she passed out again.

"Why don't we talk it over at my place?" She asked. Ronnie must live here now. I was surprised. Iowa could get pretty cold. She always told me she wanted to live somewhere warm.

Ronnie had left Dean and I shortly after I came back to life. She spent some time with us as we entered this year, and then left. I knew she missed her life as a doctor, and she needed to settle down again. She felt satisfied about avenging her parent's death and had seen enough death itself over the years. Then again, the habit was a hard one to kick.

"Sure, that sounds great!" Dean said. I agreed. "Anything beats the motel room we have." I added. Ronnie laughed and pulled out her phone. "Put your number in here in case we get lost. After I get the body into the van and drop it off at the corners office, you can follow me to my apartment."

I punched my number into her phone as the policemen helped her with loading the body in the van she brought from Des Moines. "Dude, did you see her face when she realized it was you?" Dean said, opening the door to the impala. "And you made her pass out!"

I rolled my eyes. "Dean, we haven't seen each other in a long time." I said. "Nothing is going to happen." I opened the door to the passenger's side and took a seat. "You are so getting laid tonight." Dean argued.

Ronnie and the police came back though the fog with the body on a metal gurney. They were able to get him loaded into the truck easily and Ronnie spent a few minutes talking with them.

She headed out way when she was done. I opened the door to the impala and handed back her cell phone. "Just follow me back into town and I'll see you guys in a bit." She said.

She pulled out off the side of the road and Dean followed her. The drive back to Des Monies probably would have been scenic any other day besides today. The fog seemed out of place. It hadn't rained at all, not a lot of humidity. Maybe it was a clue.

So I looked for something that caused fog as part of its activity as Dean drove. When I looked up, we were already into the city. "Find anything?" Dean asked. I shook my head. "Nothing yet. I'll need to search it on the internet." I said.

Ronnie's apartment wasn't too far away from the coroner's office. I put my book up and looked out the window. Why did I feel nervous? She was just an old friend. That I fell in love with. And still like. A lot. Damn it.

Dean found parking easily and Ronnie waited at the entrance of the building for us. I fixed my suit jacket and got out of the car. Dean and I had our bags in the trunk so I grabbed mine and tossed Dean his.

"I wasn't expecting company." Ronnie said, leading us inside. It was a newer building with shiny floors and decent décor. As long as it wasn't flowered wallpaper, I was fine with it.

"So the room is a bit messy." She said. I highly doubted it would be though. She was always very neat when she was traveling with us. "Yeah, like you were ever messy." Dean laughed.

Her apartment was on the third floor so we took the elevator up. Dean caught her up on some of our latest adventures as we made our way to her room. I was silent for most of it, jumping in when I needed too. I couldn't let Dean do all the talking.

Ronnie and Dean were joking about something when we got inside. The room was very modern looking, with large windows and tile flooring. Her kitchen was pretty small, but the living space made up for it.

"Well, I'm dog tired." Dean said with a smile. "Can I just crash on your couch?" I wanted to hit my head against the wall. Could he be any more obvious? "I'm not going to let you sleep on the couch, silly!" Ronnie said, pulling some beers from her fridge. "I have a guest room right across from my room."

She handed us the drinks to Dean and me. "But this couch looks so comfortable." He said, taking a seat. "I mean, you can't go wrong with this!" Ronnie looked at me for some sort of explanation, and I shrugged.

"Okay then. Sam gets the guest room." She said, taking a seat next to Dean on the couch. I smiled and sat down next to her. "Sounds good to me." I said.

The three of us scanned the TV channels and joked around like old times. Dean insisted he was tired though, and was ready for bed. "I'll make you breakfast before you guys head out, so don't leave without me." Ronnie said.

"Wouldn't think of it." Dean replied. "Goodnight!" Ronnie and I headed down the hallway. "Here is your room." She said, pushing the door open for me. "I was thinking maybe we could catch up before you wen to sleep?" I asked her, just as she was about to leave.

"Sure," Ronnie whispered. "Come on in."


	10. May, 2008: Day 2

Warning: Contains mature content. 

May, 2008: Day 2

 _Ronnie and I headed down the hallway. "Here is your room." She said, pushing the door open for me. "I was thinking maybe we could catch up before you wen to sleep?" I asked her, just as she was about to leave._

 _"Sure," Ronnie whispered. "Come on in."_

She gently closed the door behind us, careful not to make too much noise. Dean was a pretty heavy sleeper, but the last thing I wanted him to do was wake up. Plus, nothing was going to happen between the two of us anyways. We hadn't seen each other in some time.

"You can sit down." Ronnie said, so I took a seat on the edge of her bed. Her room was smaller, some of her things scattered about. The closet door was open, showing off her wardrobe, which hadn't changed much since I last saw her.

"I just can't believe you're here." She said. We stared at each other for a few more moments. I forced myself to try and focus on conversation when she took off her jacket. "I didn't think I would see you after all this time." I replied.

A few more moments of silence passed. She stood in front of me in her shirt and skirt, neither of us making eye contact anymore. Her body seemed tinier, more petite. She could still fill out a shirt nicely, and her breathing accentuating how tight the buttons were pulling on it.

I stood up and she ran forwards into my arms. Leaning down I kissed her, and I kissed her hard on the lips. We stayed tightly locked together, trying to make up for all the lost time. I wouldn't let her move to take a breath until she smacked me.

"Sorry." I said, trying to catch my own breath. Her lipstick was totally smeared, but I was glad it was me who got to take it off. "It's just been-" Ronnie smacked me on the arm again. "Shut up and kiss me." She didn't have to tell me twice.

I pressed my lips to hers again and used my hands to pull her body as humanly close to me as I could. Every curve I could feel up against me. I bit her bottom lip before placing hurried kisses up her jawline and to her ear.

"I want you." I whispered, and boy did I ever want her badly. Her breathing had quickened, her arms clinging to me in order to hold herself up. I moved a hand to the small of her back to help her stay up. I didn't want her to pass out again.

Ronnie never replied. Her hands went to work unbuttoning my dress shirt. I ran my lips along her neck, gently biting different places trying to get her to squirm. And it worked.

"My turn?" I asked her as she pulled the dress shirt off my shoulders. "Yes." She said, trying to pull my undershirt up over my head. I removed my hands from her body to help her.

Ronnie threw them on the ground and placed her hands on my chest. "Sit." She said. I moved till the backs of my legs were touching her bed and sat down. Using my shoulders to steady herself, Ronnie straddled my lap and then sat down. My pants were becoming less and less comfortable.

"Are you going to take it off or am I going to have to do it?" Ronnie asked, moving one of her hands back down my chest to my abs. "I'll do it." I replied quickly. The tiny buttons on her shirt were harder to undo, but I finally was able to get her dress shirt off.

Placing both of my hands at the bottom of the tank top that she had on underneath, I pulled it up and over her head, tossing it next to my clothes. Ronnie and I had been close, but I never made it quite this far with her before.

I surprised her by kissing her lips again. This time I explored her mouth, trying to make her feel like I did. She pulled away which confused me. Was I too rough? Ronnie stood up and pulled down her skirt. Guess not.

"You're beautiful." I blurted out. Ronnie laughed. "I missed you so much." She replied, gently touching my face, running her thumbs against my cheeks. "I've missed you too. Are…" My sentence stopped short as she sat back down on my lap again. In just her underwear.

"Are we having sex?" She completed my question. "Yes." My arms wound back around her so I could reach the clasp of her bra. "Gosh, you're zipper is going to break." She said, shifting herself around.

"It's your fault." I told her as I removed her bra. "You're teasing me." That made Ronnie smile. I ran my hands up her stomach and onto her breasts, gently feeling her.

"Would you like me to unbutton your pants then?" She asked. I nodded and moved so she could do so. Ronnie unbuttoned and unzipped them, which felt much better. But, not good enough yet.

I easily moved her off of me and laid her down on her bed. Her body looked lovely with nothing on. I crawled over her to place another kiss on her lips. "Are you going to last long enough?" Ronnie teased. I bit down on her earlobe before replying. "Guess we better hurry this up."

"Or," She said, tangling her hands in my hair. "I could keep this up." That wasn't going to happen. I lowered myself till I was pressed up against her body, focusing on grinding my hips up against hers. That seemed to do it.

Ronnie covered her mouth with her hand, trying to suppress any sound she might make. I was tempted to try harder, but I really didn't want Dean to hear us. "Still want to keep this up?" I whispered in her ear. Ronnie shook her head no. That's what I thought.

"Damn it." I cursed, which ruined the mood. "What?" Ronnie asked, moving her hand off of her face. "My bag is in the living room where Dean is." I said. She pointed to the small table next to her bed. "Top drawer." That took me by surprise. She must have been seeing other people. I mean, I guess I've kind of had too, but they weren't horribly important. I didn't even ask her if she was seeing someone. I kind of felt like a jerk.

I couldn't just leave us like this and interrogate her on her love life, so I reached for the handle to the top drawer of her nightstand. There was a small box with plastic on it, so I pulled it out, assuming it was what we needed. I began to laugh.

It was a green box, still fully wrapped and everything. "You kept this?" I asked her. These must be old, at least a year. I instantly felt guilty for sleeping around while she obviously wasn't. "Thought they might eventually be used." She replied.

I certainly didn't waist any time pulling the plastic off the box and pulling a condom out. "Let me." Ronnie said. That was a surprise. I placed the box up on the nightstand and handed her the condom.

She pushed up on my chest and sat up, so I moved so I was kneeling. Grabbing my pants, she pulled them down further to my knees. I'd have to get them all the way off when she was done.

Ronnie was taking too long to get the condom unwrapped so I removed my pants and boxers for her. She put it on for me and laid back down on the bed. Leaning forward, I remained on my knees over her body. Ronnie lifted up her legs and wrapped them around me.

Her hand grabbed a fistful of my hair. "Sam." She said, almost like a moan. Her hips were raised up off the bed, eager for me to hurry up. I thrusted inside her, forcing myself to be easy with her. It was hard to control myself, but I waited till she stopped pulling my hair to continue.

I increased our pace and tired to soften my breathing. Ronnie put her hand back over her mouth to keep herself from being too vocal. Taking both her hands, I pinned them down on the bed above her head.

"Sam." She said, closing her eyes, biting her lip. I got a bit rough with her, thrusting in further, harder. Her back arched up off the bed, her fingernails digging into my hands.

I let her wrists go and she grabbed onto my shoulders, her body twisting in pure pleasure. I didn't have much longer to go, but I wanted her to feel as much pleasure as I could give her.

My climax came as she was still enduring hers. I rolled over and laid down beside her. Ronnie turned her head to look at me. "Damn it, Sam." She whispered. "I knew you would be good, but that was amazing."

I tried not to laugh too hard. "Come here." I said, pulling her over towards me and partially onto my chest.

"You know," She said. I turned to see her face. I loved this moment together in bed, getting to lie near her beautiful body. "I think of fate like a piece of string. God's made a string for each of us, and it's our own little path we follow in life."

I smiled as her head rose with my chest, her hands gently placed on my stomach. "Somehow God seems to have ours tangled together, and that gives me so much hope." My hand pressed her closer up against my side, feeling her warmth even better.

"You know," I said. "Sometimes I think about this other life, where the things that go bump in the night aren't real. No monsters, no demons, no ghost. And in that life I belong to you." Ronnie nuzzled her face into my chest, trying to hide her face from me.

"Why can't I have you in this one then?" She asked. My heart ached for her, and maybe a bit for me too. I didn't have time to pity me or anyone for that matter, because I was a realist, and this was a silly fantasy of normalcy that I had.

"Because here, staying with me can get you killed. Or worse, I might kill you." People turn so quickly into the own monsters I hunt. Sometimes I turn into a monster that I would want to hunt. My greatest fear was having to kill her. I couldn't do that, not to her. She deserved so much more, but she just can't see it now. Her judgment is clouded with infatuation, but it would all wear off someday and she would regret staying with me.

"Well Sam, in this life I still belong to you, if that means anything." As soon as she said it I wish she wouldn't have. I wanted to tell her the same, but I couldn't. There was too much at risk. So I stayed silent, just watching her eyes slowly close as she fell asleep.

I sat up in bed around 8:00am. Ronnie had left my side and I assumed she was eating at this point. Dean and I needed to get on the road, and quickly. I couldn't say here much longer. It would only make things worse for her.

My only logical answer to this was to break her heart. If I did that, she would stop feeling anything for me, stop seeking me out. And if she did that, she would finally be safe.

I got out of bed and turned on the lamp. My clothes weren't too hard to find. I pulled my boxers on, then my jeans and undershirt. I couldn't find my flannel shirt anywhere, so I left her room and headed into the main living space.

Dean was still lying on the couch, but he was awake. "Dude, try the coffee." He said as I walked into the kitchen. I put on my most serious face as I did so. Ronnie was making pancakes, wearing my shirt over her t-shirt and pj bottoms. I had to admit, I'd love to wake up to this every morning. Or at least for a few more mornings. "You stole my shirt." I said to her. Ronnie laughed as she moved the pancake off the pan and onto a plate.

"I was cold!" She said, before looking up at my unamused face. I put my hand out for it, and it took her a moment to realize it. "Right, uh, sorry." She said hesitantly, not understanding why I was being odd this morning. And I wish I really didn't have to. It's for her own good. She just doesn't know it yet.

I buttoned up my shirt as Ronnie finished up the last of the pancakes. "Dean, we really need to get on the road." I told him. Dean looked up from his magazine and made a face. "It's early enough. We can leave after we eat."

I moved around her small kitchen and back to the couch. "No, we go now." I said. I could feel Ronnie's eyes on my back. It was for her own good. "How am I suppose to eat and drive, Sam? I'm hungry. Don't you think this case can wait a few more minutes?"

And I did, I agreed with him totally. "I'll drive while you eat. I'm not hungry." Which was true. I lost my appetite a while ago. "Okay." Dean said at last, trying to read my face. He didn't know why I was like this either.

Dean grabbed out bags and Ronnie gave me the plate of food. "Sam." She said, but I stopped her speaking with a glare. "No. I have to go." I said. I don't think I could do this. I wanted to kiss her and tell her goodbye. It was for her own good.

"I'll be in the car." Dean interrupted our conversation. "It was good to see you Ronnie. Keep in touch." He added before heading out the door. I followed him out, and tried to close the door. Ronnie caught it though, looking up at me with tears in her eyes.

"What's wrong? Can't we at least say goodbye?" She asked, trying to hold herself together. And I wasn't helping any. "Goodbye." I said, pulling the door from her hands and closing it.

I caught up with Dean down the hall, staring at me in shock. "Dude, what was that for? You sleep with her and then suddenly hate her?" I wanted to punch something right now, but I stopped myself. "Just get on the elevator." I told him.

It was a quiet ride down to the car. "Sam, you cant make her think you hate her." He caught onto what I was trying to do, but I didn't care, he wasn't going to change my mind.

"Why does it matter so much to you, Dean?" I spat, taking the keys from his hands. "Because," He began, "You're my brother and she's my friend. I want you to be happy." I was touched a bit that he cared, but I played it off as though it didn't. "Yeah, and you know what happens to people that love us Dean? They die. They always die!" That shut him up. His mouth was open like he wanted to say something, but he never did.

"I'm saving her." I said, pulling open my door. I put the keys in the ignition and started the car. Dean got in the passenger side and then stared at me. "Are you really?" He asked, looking disgusted with me.

I never answered that question. We had a lot of highway to cover to make it to Nebraska, and I wasn't going to waste it arguing. I pulled out of the parking lot, trying not to look through the rear view mirror at Ronnie's apartment as we left.


	11. March, 2009

Content from Season 4, Episode 17: It's a Terrible Life

(Music: God Help the Girl by God Help the Girl, Respectable Man by The Kinks)

March, 2009

My parking spot was just around the corner from here. It was reserved, thank goodness, in case I was to ever run behind. Not like I ever did, but just in case. I always like to be prepared.

I pulled my brief case off the passengers seat and got out of my civic. Everyone was filling into the office building. My room was towards the top of the skyscraper. It was a beautiful building that sat in the center of New York. A man held the door for me as I climbed the stairs. "Thank you." I told him before entering the lobby.

My heels made a funny sound on the marble floors as I headed towards the elevators. I checked my watch. 8:45 am. Perfect timing. My job began at 9:00am, but my boss liked he here a bit earlier.

The giant "Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc." lettering greeted me as I got off the elevator. "Good morning, Veronica!" Bill said as I passed though the printer room. "Good morning!" I replied.

I pulled my keys out of my purse and unlocked the door to my office. It was a smaller one, but I had a nice wooden desk in the center of it. Not to mention the bookcases that lined two of the walls. There was plenty of room for all my paperwork. Which, never seemed to end.

I put my brief case under my desk and logged onto my computer. The screen turned red, showing that my username and or password were not valid. Also, my watch read 9:00am. Sighing, I picked my brief case back up and headed down the hall.

"Good morning, Ms. Remington!" I put on a smile and turned around to see the head honcho of this company. "Morning, Mr. Adler." I replied. He gave me a nod and moved out of the doorway.

I headed inside the office and waited. Mr. Smith was still on the phone with someone. He nodded to acknowledge that I was here and continued to move around the room, talking on a headset.

I took a seat in one of the chairs in front of his desk, placing my paperwork on my lap. His office looked a lot like mine, besides being bigger and having more windows in it. Mr. Smith finally pressed a button on his headset and sat down.

"Good morning, Mr. Smith." I said, now placing my stack of paperwork on his desk. "Please, Veronica," He said, giving me a charming smile. "It's Dean." I returned the smile.

Dean Smith was recently appointed as my new boss. I was a lawyer for Sandover Bridge and Iron, and they moved me to the marketing department, where he worked. The two of us were always friendly with each other. He invited me out for dinner one Friday after work. I could see more dates in our future. He was just a perfect, normal guy.

"Now, what have I gotten myself into this time?" He asked. It took some time for me to explain why this client was suing Sandover, and how his marketing scheme was involved and what Mr. Alder wanted us to do. It was a pretty boring conversation, but we needed to talk about all this.

"That's all I had for you today, Dean." I said, grabbing all my scattered papers. He helped me gather them off his desk. "Alright. If you have any other questions, I'm here till 5:00pm." He said. We exchanged good-bye's and I headed out the door.

After scanning in a few of the documents that Dean had to sign, I headed back to my office. It was already almost noon at this point. I woke my computer up and tried to log on again. Invalid. Great.

I restrained myself from beating my computer to death and picked up the phone. A small list underneath the base of it had all the extensions for this building. Marketing, Engineering, Administration, ah, here it was. IT tech support.

I dialed the extension on the phone and was put on hold. The music their department used played over the phone while I waited for someone to answer. I wedged the phone between my ear and shoulder, freeing up my hands to try and enter my password again.

"Hello, tech support." A voice said over the phone. Finally! I raised my hand to hold the phone properly again. "I keep trying to log into my computer and it rejects my username and password." I told the guy. Hopefully this was an easy fix so I can get back to work.

"Have you tried turning it off and on again?" He asked me. I pressed the glowing on button and the computer shut down. "I'm doing that right now." I said. Once the computer was fully off, I pressed the button to turn it back on.

"Did it shut off?" He asked. The screen lit back up and then turned gray. "Yeah, I just turned it back on and the screen turned gray." I could hear him sigh on the other end. "Great." He said flatly. "It's crashed." Crashed? No, it can't be!

"I have very important documents on here." I told him. "Don't we all." He muttered. I was getting tired of this guy. "You need to come up here and fix it." I told him. There was silence on the line for a few moments. "Where is your office at?"

I told him the floor and number and hung up. 12:15pm. Dang it, I really needed to start on work. Heck, I needed to check my email! It didn't take long for him to come up from IT to my office.

There was a soft knock and I told him to come in. He took me by surprise. This guy was probably six foot five. He towered over me as he stood at the front of my desk. Not exactly what I pictured when I was calling the IT department.

"Uh, hi." I said, staring him like an idiot. He smiled at me though. "A bit taller than you thought, huh?" He said. I laughed as he set his bag down on one of my chairs.

"Yes, that's it." I replied. The man offered me his hand. "Sam Wesson." I took his hand and shook it. "We just talked over the phone about your computer crashing." He stated. I nodded and scooted away from my computer.

"I turned it off and then on, and it did this." Sam came around to take a look at it. He took a seat in my office chair and pressed some buttons on the monitor. Nothing really happened. Getting out of the office chair, he got down on the floor and crawled under my desk. What was he doing?

"Sam?" I asked, placing a hand near his shoulder. He jumped and smacked his head on the inside of my desk. "Ouch!" He shouted. Dang it. "I'm so sorry!" I said. My first instinct was to reach out and touch him, probably from…I don't know what from, but I did it anyways.

"I'm fine." He said, coming out from under my desk. "I'm trying to look at your computer." Oh, well oops. Sam crawled back under my desk and pulled the computer out from under it.

"Everything is plugged in correctly." He said to himself as he looked it over. "Do you have a disk in it?" He asked. I shook my head no. Sam turned the computer around to look at the back of it.

"I think I might have found your problem." Good, then I could get back to work. It was almost 1:00pm. I had a meeting later today too. I hated it when abnormal things like this happened.

Sam got up and retrieved his bag. He pulled out a small can with a weird looking straw attached to the end of it. The straw went near the opening in the back of the computer and he pressed the button on top.

"Too much dust." He informed me. Oh, I guess that made sense. The canister contained air that blew all of the dust off the computer parts. I let him finish and put the computer back under my desk. Sam stood up and turned the monitor back on.

"Do I know you?" He asked, turning to face me. I took a step back and started at him. "I've never seen you before." I told him. And I haven't. Although, he kind of looked like one of my ex-boyfriends. But only slightly.

"I just feel like I know you from somewhere." Sam said, clicking on the log in button for the computer. "No, we don't know each other." I repeated. This was getting kind of weird.

"I have these dreams of you and Dean Smith," Sam began. I took a few more steps back. "Look, I said I don't know you, and I have no interest in the dreams you have about me and my boss."

Sam looked very annoyed. "It's not like that." He explained. "In my dreams we all hunt together." This guy was mad. He needed help and to learn personal boundaries. "You're a doctor."

I laughed, because that was pretty ridiculous. "No, I'm a lawyer." I said. Sam opened his mouth to say something, but I stopped him. "Get out of my office or I'll file a report on you." I threatened.

Sam shut his mouth and grabbed his things. "You and I are good friends." He continued. "No, I don't know you." I stressed. He grabbed his bag off of my chair. "Yes, you do." He insisted. This was just plain odd. I wasn't accustomed to abnormal occurrences, especially with my coworkers.

"What's the gray matter made of inside the brain?" He asked as he was in the doorway. "Myelin!" I said, almost shouting at him. But I had no clue what I just said. I didn't know what that was.

"That's the right answer." He said, closing the door behind him. What? It sounded like a made up word! I was able to actually log on to my computer, and so I googled it. And myelin came up. That was the right answer.

I leaned back in my office chair and looked out the window. What the heck? I never studied health in college, like at all. I took a nutrition class, and that was it. I shouldn't have known the answer to that question.

I forced myself to focus on work for the rest of the day. I buried myself in customer suits and other legal matters for Dean. Why was Dean in Sam's dreams too? No, I wasn't going to think about that now. I was going to work.

My watch read 5:00pm and my work for today was done. I was ready to rush home and get away from this place. I couldn't shake this feeling I had after Sam was here, and I needed to regain my cool.

I put on my coat, grabbed my purse and briefcase, and booked it out the door towards the elevators. Some of my coworkers told me good-bye, but I hurried past them all to get on the next elevator going down.

I just caught the door to the one going down and made it inside. Now I could catch my breath and made it out to the parking lot quickly. "What floor?" A voice said, and I jumped.

Dean. It was just Dean. "The lobby." I said, relieved to see him here. He had already pressed that button for himself. "So, have a good Friday?" He asked me. I pulled my purse of my shoulder and dug around for my keys. "Yeah," I lied. "Just a normal day on the job."

Dean smiled at me, and I smiled back. The elevator doors opened and someone stepped on. Sam. It was Sam from IT. I stared at him, and he noticed it was me and looked away. Once we reached the lobby I would make a run for it. Thank goodness Dean was here. I could walk out with him. "What do you think about ghosts?" Sam asked, particularly to Dean.

 **"** Ghosts?" Dean asked, giving Sam a weird look. I had the same reaction. Why was he asking about that? "Do you believe in them?" Sam clarified. This whole day was just getting weirder and weirder.

 **"** Uh, tell you the truth, I've never given it much thought." Dean replied, looking over at me. I shrugged. I sure didn't know what was going on.

 **"** Vampires?" Sam asked. What an odd question! I just wanted off this elevator. "What? Why?" Dean shook his head, totally weirded out by this guy just like I was.

 **"** Because I've been having some weird dreams lately." Sam said at last. Oh gosh, not with the dreams again "You know what I mean?"

 **"** No. Not really." Dean said, exiting the elevator. "Veronica," He said, pausing in the lobby. "Are you coming?" Dean waited for me to say something. "I just forgot I left some paperwork I need back in my office." I said, frantically digging though my briefcase.

"Okay, do you want me to wait?" Dean asked, eyeing Sam. I stepped out of the elevator. "No, I'm fine." I insisted. "I'll be fine. See you tomorrow!" Dean looked at me, then back at Sam and shrugged. He started down the lobby again and out the door.

"So," Sam said, and I jumped, totally forgetting he was behind me. "I take it you thought it over some more." Sighing, I decided I should talk to him. "Yeah," I said, zipping up my briefcase.

"I uh, there's no logical explanation to why I knew the answer to that question." I told him. Sam nodded, seeming to understand. We stood there awkwardly for a few moments before he leaned over and kissed me.

My first reaction was to smack him across the face, but I didn't. It wasn't a long kiss, and Sam took a step back to give me space again. It was odd though. This felt like déjà vu.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked after I didn't say anything. "I actually liked that." I said, looked up at him. Sam breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "Thank god." He said. Now that I stared at him, he did look more familiar than I thought.

"Am I a surgeon?" I asked him. Sam laughed. "Yes! You are." He looked overjoyed. Things were blurry, but I remembered a lot of blood. And cheap food and crappy motel rooms with rusty showers.

"We kill things?" I asked. Sam nodded. "Exactly." He opened up the door for me. "I have so much to catch you up on." He said. Sam began to tell me all that he remembered as we headed outside. 


	12. December, 2009

(Contains spoilers)

December, 2009

I pressed the garage door opener as I neared the house. It was probably around 7:30pm and I was exhausted. Lately I have seen so many patients. I forgot how tiring hospital work really was.

I pulled the car inside and shut it off. Ian's car was parked in the spot beside mine. He usually got home earlier than I did because he worked normal hours. Which must be nice. I didn't really care though, I loved working at night and going to bed in the morning. Those were the best shifts.

The house was pretty quiet as I headed inside. Silence always made me a little nervous. Ian was home, right? The door from the garage led into the kitchen, which was empty, and then the living room, which was empty too. Ian usually began dinner at this point, but there was nothing on any of the stovetops. A noise from upstairs echoed into the hallway.

I reached around and grabbed my gun out of the holster I wore on my back. Gently I pulled on the hammer, loading the bullet into the chamber. From the living room I made my way into the guest bedroom on this floor. Nothing was there, so I decided to check up stairs.

I climbed the stairs quickly, keeping my gun out as I did so. "Ian?" I said, hoping to hear from him. Silence still though. I pushed open the door and scanned the room. Ian jumped out of the chair he was in, running behind it to take cover.

I lowered my gun and put it back in my holster. "Gosh, Veronica!" He said. This was probably the fourth time this has happened. Ian knew about my old "FBI agent" days. I hated to lie about my past, but I couldn't tell him the truth. I spent years running around the country with two guys fighting monsters. That would go over well. He believed I had PTSD, or that's what I told him I had. It could've been true, too.

"Sorry, I thought someone broke in." I lied. I thought he was possessed. I did that a lot now. I was afraid a demon would find me, and possess the people around me. Again. You know you're paranoid when you spike your boyfriend's drink with holy water.

"It's alright." Ian headed over to me and rubbed my shoulders. I sighed and rested my head against his chest. He was so understanding about these things. I really didn't deserve him.

"Do you want me to go out and get something for dinner?" He asked. I nodded. "Please." He patted me on the back and let go of me. I followed him down the stairs and back into our living room.

"Is Chinese okay?" He asked. I took off my coat and draped it over one of the chairs. "Yeah, sounds good to me." I told him. There was a pile of bills on the table. He must have gotten the mail for us.

I picked them up and thumbed though them. Utilities bill, TV bill, cell phone bill. I hated paying all of them, probably because I spent too many years using credit card fraud. Couldn't do that now, even though it was tempting sometimes.

After Sam broke my heart back in 2008, I left Des Moines and moved to Oklahoma City in Oklahoma. With the skills I learned from the Winchesters, I was able to recreate a new identity, a fake medical school diploma, and doctor's license. Totally illegal, I know, but I was off any records.

Under my new alias I opened a checking account so I didn't have to use Dean's old credit card anymore. I bought a new cell phone and didn't transfer any of my contacts, except for Sam and Dean and their aliases. I was completely out of touch with anyone I met before those two, and it was for the better.

At said bank when I was getting a new account, I met Ian. He's an accountant who's been here all his life. I forced myself to go on a date with him when he asked. I mean, that's what Sam really wanted me to do, right? He broke my heart so I could forget him. Too bad it didn't really work.

I felt horrible knowing that I was still in love with someone else while I was dating him. It felt like cheating, and it probably was. We've been together for almost two years. But, I could date Ian. I could marry him. I could have a normal life. I could work at a hospital. With Sam, I couldn't do any of those things.

Dean and I touched base every now and then. I hadn't heard from in a long time. I wondered if he ever got out of his deal and lived on. I wondered if he had to go to hell. Maybe Sam would find a way to get him out.

But I tried not to worry about that. I tried to worry about my bills, and how many surgeries I was scheduled for this week, if Ian was happy with our relationship. Occasionally I wondered if the neighbor was a witch, but that was beside the point.

"You also got a package, dear." Ian told me, pulling on his coat. Well that was odd. He had put it up against the wall, behind the chair. Interesting. "Probably for my birthday." Which was in a few days.

"Must be." Ian said, grabbing his keys off the counter. "Except they addressed it wrong." He added. I put the bills down on the table and looked up at him. "Oh?" I asked.

He opened up the door to the garage. "Yeah, they addressed it Veronica Carter, instead of Veronica Hotchkiss." Carter. I hadn't heard that name in years. It had to be one of the boys. No one else knew that last name, or how to find me.

I tried not to let any emotion show. "Carter was my mom's maiden name." I lied, leaning up against the doorframe as Ian walked out to his car. "It must be from my grandmother. She mixes stuff up like that all the time." Ian nodded and opened the car door. "I'll be back soon." He said.

Calmly I entered the house and closed the door. I pressed my ear to it and I listened to make sure Ian was gone. I kicked off my shoes and ran back over to the table.

Grabbing the box, I placed it up on the table and turned another light on. The return label was a printed one, but the one addressing me, Veronica Carter, was hand written. And I could feel my heart skip a beat. I ran my fingers down the front of the box in sheer shock that I had received anything at all.

Gripping the package in my left hand, I grabbed the saltshaker off the table with my right and raced up the stairs to the bedroom. I set the package on my bed and closed the door. Kneeling down, I created a salt line, making sure there weren't any breaks. I checked the one by the window seal to make sure it wasn't broken, and I could finally relax.

I sat down on the bed with the package. I wanted so badly to open it, but I knew it would only make things worse for me. These things I feel are far from healthy and receiving a package that would raise my hopes and feelings all over again wasn't exactly ideal. Heck, this whole situation wasn't ideal. But we're human's. Stupid humans that fall in love too much with other humans. And it really sucks.

Ultimately though, it would kill me to never find out what was in that box. I had to open it. I just had to. Taking out my pocketknife from the nightstand, I cut though the layers of tape.

The box opened up, and the sent of musk and leather filled my nose. It brought me back to much happier times on the road with those two idiots. I didn't realize just how much I missed that life. The whole top of the box was full of tissue paper. He really went all out on this. I bit my lip and forced some feelings back. I couldn't get emotional. Yet.

Pushing the papers back, I saw a beautiful lace pattern. Lace? I grabbed the fabric and pulled it out gingerly. It unfolded into a dress made with a shimmery black thread and long lacey sleeves. It was beautiful, it really was, but I felt my heart sink deep down into my stomach.

A dress. One meaningless clothing item. There was nothing heartfelt about this gift. Maybe that's all it was, just a gift to a friend from years ago. Maybe that's all I was to him now.

I felt dumb for thinking I would still be important to some guy I didn't even speak to anymore. Of course he'd just want to be nice, it was Sam. Little Sammy Winchester with the shaggy hair and puppy dog eyes. We were just stupid and desperate.

Taking the dress I wadded it up and tossed it on the floor. I was angry with myself for allowing me to believe a lie that we still had something. Obviously we didn't have anything at all. I just wanted it to exist so badly that I lead myself to believe in him.

In my anger, I knocked the box off the bed, the rest of its contents spilling across the carpet.

Sighing, I got up and gathered the paper up off the floor. I tossed a few pieces in the trash and went back for the rest. My hand pressed down on a sharp object and I let out a yelp.

Earings. They were black too, but I wasn't in the mood to admire them. I tossed them on top of the dress on the other side of the bed. I didn't care about it. It didn't mean much.

I threw the rest of the paper away and finally picked up the box. Wadded up in the bottom of the box was a flannel shirt, and I shook my head. I pulled it out of the box and threw it over with pile I seemed to be making.

At the bottom was an envelope with my name scribbled on it. It was Sam's writing. Part of me wanted to read it and keep it while the angry half wanted to toss it away with the box.

I chucked the box in the trash and sat down at the end of the bed with the envelope. Turning the sticky side to me, I pulled it open and pulled out the pieces of paper. It wasn't a card, but more like a letter. I unfolded the first page.

Dear Ronnie,

It's been a while, and you may or may not want to hear what I have to say, but please hear me out.

I know I haven't sent you anything in a year, and I know I was a jerk to you. Trust me, it's been painful for me too, but I couldn't risk it. I couldn't risk you're life. Dean's been to hell and back (literately), I've been an addicted to demon blood, and now the apocalypse is going to begin. That's the shortened version of what's happened, obviously. I couldn't write it all down if I wanted to.

You must understand that the apocalypse won't end well for me. It could end badly for all of us. I wish more than anything in the world to see you, but I am followed by death wherever I go.

This box then, you may be wondering, is my gift to you. Its something rather normal that a guy would buy a girl he's in love with. That though, is the farthest thing that the two of us have right now: normalcy.

If we were a normal couple (Do you mind me using that term? I'm hope you don't), I'd have taken off work a bit early today. I would have this dress spread out across our bed in our apartment. You would arrive home from your twelve-hour shift at 8pm, and you'd be in your scrubs, completely exhausted from saving people's lives.

You'd come though the door surprised to see me home so early. And I'd take your coat and kiss you on the cheek. You know, stuff normal couples do. But you wouldn't expect me to remember you birthday. You may not have even remembered it was your birthday due to work.

I would say I have a surprise for you, but wouldn't tell you what. I'd tell you to go get ready, and you'd walk into our bedroom and find this outfit already laid out for you.

So you would go take a shower and then you'd put on makeup or whatever you wanted. You would get dressed up and I would be excited to see how beautiful you looked. And I would tell you how beautiful I think you are.

I would drive you downtown to some nice restaurant that I would have made reservations at. You would be impressed with me for remembering and being so creative. Or at least I'd hope you would.

We'd spend hours talking and eating fancy food. I would be a lawyer, so I could afford all this. Then I would drive you home and be just as excited to get that dress off you as I was to see it on. And I would do whatever would please you the most. Whatever you wanted.

And we'd have a normal life. But that's as far from reality as it could be. I wish I could be normal with you, because I really would like it. I wish I could give you everything, but I can only give you my love, because that's all I really have. I'll just have to hope you think it's enough.

Love,

Sam

I clutched the letter to my chest and sobbed. I hadn't cried this hard in years and all the tears continued to come. Because I love him too, but I'd never get to tell him. So I let myself cry till I heard the garage door open and Ian come inside. I put the letter in my nightstand along with my journal, and headed downstairs like everything was perfectly fine.

And it killed me inside.


	13. February, 2010

February, 2010

There was a small bell on the door so that when you entered it rang. The few people in the waiting room looked up at me with surprised eyes. One or two whispered as I made my way across the room.

It was pretty dim besides the small lights shining up on the wall, displaying many different framed pieces. About ten chairs were haphazardly set up around a small table with various magazines tossed in a basket. The place reeked of alcohol cleanser, just like the hospital did. Who knew that it would become a calming sent? I guess I've spent too much time in the hospital for my own good.

The man working the desk definitely looked confused as I set my purse down on the ledge in front of me. "Can I help you?" He asked, his voice raspy and quiet. He had a unique haircut and a few piercings on his ears.

"Yes, I have an appointment with Matt." I told him. He raised an eyebrow before going to check the calendar on the desk behind him. I stood there rather nervously. To be honest, I had never done anything like this before. Maybe it was because of all of these crazy things that happened, but I felt like I had to do this. People always say you have to let go of everything and just move on, but obviously those people haven't hunted the supernatural. Or have fallen in love with someone you can never have.

"Veronica?" The man asked. I nodded and he handed me a clipboard with a piece of paperwork on it. Like I don't do enough of that already at work. I knew the drill. "He will see you in a few minutes."

I grabbed the clipboard and took a seat a few away from some others. The man and woman looked at me oddly. Maybe it was because I was still in my scrubs or something. More likely, they were thinking I didn't belong in a place like this. And they were right. This was something very out of character for me. Or at least I would have thought the same thing years ago.

I breezed though the paperwork and pulled my phone out from my purse. It had been six minutes since I took a seat, and I began to hope for more time. I was nervous, but you would have been too. Good or bad, I can't say, but either way, you'd be feeling some nerves.

I unlocked my phone and stared at the screen. No new messages, no missed calls. That was usually how it was now these days. It had been almost a year since I had received a call from Sam. I wanted it to come, but nothing ever showed. I wanted it more than anything. I felt guilty though, having Ian. Sure, dating him was great, but he wasn't Sam.

"Veronica." I heard my name from behind the desk and stood up. Show time. I handed back the paperwork and followed the man back though the hallway. The building looked older back here, like it had been part of the original building. "Matt has a private room here around the corner and to the left." And with that the man disappeared though another door.

I swallowed pretty hard and headed to the end by myself. Pausing in front of the door, I knew this was a good thing to have done. I just wish I wasn't alone. I opened the door and stepped into Matt's room. It was small, but better lit than the rest of the building.

In the center there was a padded chair that reminded me of the ones you sat in at the dentist. Matt was sitting at a small corner desk, but turned around when I entered. He was a bigger man with broad shoulders and a tall stature. His blonde hair was pushed to one side and a variety of designs and colors ran up the back of his neck and down his arms. If there was one thing that I had learned though, never judge someone by what they appear to be.

"Veronica, it's nice to meet you." He said, smiling warmly. I think he could tell I was nervous. "How are you doing today? Aren't having second thoughts, are we?" I took a seat in the chair and faked a smile. "No second thoughts. I've been told you are the best in the business, but I'm just afraid it will hurt."

Matt didn't laugh like I thought he would. "It's just because you've never done this before. I promise, it's not nearly as bad as it seems." I hoped he was right. "So you got my email?" I asked. Matt nodded. "Yes, I have it printed out right here actually." He pointed to a small table on wheels. Taking a seat on a stool, he rolled it towards me. "There's only one more question." He said, pulling the small table towards him. "Where is the tattoo going?"

I went back and forth trying to figure out where exactly I wanted it. It wasn't exactly movable. "I decided that I want it on my side. I can't have it showing at work or in public." Matt nodded and gave me a wry smile. "I understand. Many people aren't accepting of satanists."

I couldn't help but let out a laugh. "It's not satanic." The anti-possession mark was bound to label me as such, but it wasn't. I smiled at the thought of my initial conceptions as well. "It's not?" Matt asked, clearly confused. "I really don't have a good explanation for you." I replied, quoting Dean's words.

Matt shrugged and smiled. "Alright, well let's get the site ready." Leaning up off the back of the chair, I pulled my shirt up enough to get my hand back behind me. I undid the clasp on my bra and pulled the material off my left side. With my other hand, I held my bra onto my chest. I leaned back in the chair as Matt began prepping his tools.

Taking what looked like a pencil, the anti-possession symbol was draw onto my side. I could at least hide it here. Unlike the Winchesters, I couldn't exactly put it on my chest.

"Does this look good?" Matt asked, holding up a small mirror to my side. The symbol looked perfect to me. "Just a heads up, you picked a pretty painful spot to get a tattoo." I didn't watch him as he messed with the tattoo gun. I was just going to psych myself out, which I didn't want to do. "That's fine." It couldn't possibly hurt as much as being shot or something. But I didn't want to toss that comparison out there in fear of freaking the tattoo artist out.

"Okay, here it goes." The gun hummed as he turned it on. I could feel myself tense, but being a doctor, I knew that tensing and needles was always a bad combo. Closing my eyes, I braced myself.

It felt like he was dragging a hot needle across my skin. It was like a paper cut. Sharp stinging pain, but not like an injection like I thought it would be. "Not to bad, right?" Matt asked. "It's bearable." I replied.

I tried to take my mind off of it. I thought of fresh air and asphalt. I thought about propping my feet up on the dashboard of the impala and driving with Sam to the grocery store. I thought about his hair, and how the wind from the windows kept blowing it in his face. I thought about the rock music playing loudly over the old radio. And I thought about how much I wanted to go back to that day before I knew what I was getting into.

"Just about done here." Matt interrupted my thoughts. Opening my eyes, I realized I was practically asleep in the chair. Holding up the mirror, I saw the anti-possession mark nicely placed on my side, and it gave me some relief. "Looks good."

Matt explained a few things about how to care for it as he put a gaze pad and tape over it. I couldn't believe it was already over with. Finally, I felt a little safer in this new world that my eyes had been opened to. "Thank you very much, Matt. You have no idea what it means to me." Matt smiled and opened the door for me. "If there's ever anything else I can do for you, you know where to find me."

I paid up at the counter and left the tiny shop. My phone began to buzz in my purse and eagerly I pulled it out. Ian. I didn't feel so eager anymore. "Hey dear." I said, pulling out my car keys. "I'm leaving the hospital a little later than normal. Busy day." There was silence on the line for a few moments. "You could have at least called, Veronica." I knew Ian was trying not to be upset with me, but I couldn't just say I was downtown getting a tattoo so I wouldn't be possessed. You can see how that's kinda complicated.

"I'm going to have to bail on date nigh with you. I'm sorry Ian, but I've got a ton of paperwork to get though." That though, was not a lie. "Alright, but please text me or something next time, honey. Anything could have happened to you and I didn't know." Oh, you have no idea. "Okay, I know, I was just so busy. I'll call you later, okay?" I could hear people in the background of his call, so I assumed he was still working too. "Okay. Love you, Veronica. Bye."

I opened my mouth to speak, but I couldn't reply to that. Not honestly at least. "Bye." Was all I could say to him. Another pang of guilt hit me in the stomach. Ian was a nice guy, and I wasn't good enough for him. Sighing, I started the car and began the commute home.


	14. June, 2010

June, 2010

"Honey, are they almost done?" Ian called from the living room. Dang it, the wings. I had totally forgotten about them in the oven. Frantically I looked for the oven mitts. I put them on, pulled the tray out, and set it on the stovetop.

A bit crispy, but that was okay. They didn't burn this time, and that's all I cared about. "Just about!" I shouted from the kitchen. We were going to watch a movie tonight because it was Saturday and I finally wasn't on call. Ian invited a few people over, which wasn't much to my liking. They all seemed nice though.

"Take all the time you need." Someone else said. I sure as heck was. I didn't want to go back out there. There were too many things I was thinking about. The last time I saw the Winchesters was a few years ago, about this time. The more time passed, the more I missed them. But, I had an established live here. And I had to try and keep it.

 _"Ronnie, is it almost done?" Dean asked me from the couch. Classic, impatient Dean. Sam stood in the kitchen with me, drying the dishes as I washed them. "Just a few minutes." I said. Sam couldn't help but laugh._

 _"Thanks for going to all this trouble." Sam said. The store was out of pie, and it was a Saturday night, which meant if we weren't working, we sat down on the couch and ate dessert. It happened rarely, so when they were out of pie I had to make one._

 _"I always love cooking for you guys." I replied, handing him another glass. "It's not like 'make me a sandwich because you're a woman', its more like 'ohmygosh you made me a sandwich, you're an amazing woman'."_

 _Sam laughed and set the glass down with the rest of the dishes. "Well, you are." I turned off the water and took the stopper out of the sink. "I'm what?" I asked. Sam put his dishtowel up on the counter. "Amazing." He said with a smile._

 _"How's your shoulder?" I asked. Some woman named Bella Talbot shot him. That didn't go over well with Dean and I. "Fine." He said with a sigh. "Still a little painful." And I can imagine it would be._

 _"But that was one hell of a cat fight." Dean said, scaring both Sam and I. "I thought you were going to pull her hair out." I laughed and opened up the oven door. "Oh, shut your face, Dean, and eat your pie." I pulled it out of the oven and set it on the stovetop._

"Hey," Ian stepped into the kitchen. "Are you okay?" I felt guilty now for thinking about the boys. "Yeah, I'm okay." I said, trying to put on a smile.

"PTSD giving you some trouble?" He said in a low voice. I nodded. That's what I called this feeling I had. It helped him understand without knowing about the supernatural.

"Well if you need to talk about it…" Ian said, rubbing my back. I laughed dryly and walked away from him to put the hot wings on a platter. "I've told you, I can't talk about it." I said.

I think he wanted to know because he was curious to what was making me this way. There would never be an explanation for him because I certainly wasn't dragging him into this mess.

"Look, I'm okay." I told him, taking the platter with me. "Just a flashback, that's all." Ian seemed satisfied with this and followed be back out to our guests. Who, thank goodness, liked my cooking.

"What do you want to watch?" Ian asked everyone as he pulled Netflix up on the TV. "How about a comedy?" Steve said. He was Ian's friend, also an accountant. His wife Hayley was here too.

"No, not a comedy." John said. He was another one of Ian's friends, but from college instead of work. He was married to Julia. Her and I became pretty good friends. We would go shopping or out to lunch together, which didn't happen often because of my schedule, but I found some time.

"How about something scary?" Julia suggested. Oh gosh no. I couldn't do horror movies. Not because of the gory stuff, but because I knew how to deal with most all of it. Ghost? Salt and burn. No one ever burned the bones! It drove me crazy.

"I don't know," I said, finally taking a seat on the couch next to Ian. "Come on, Veronica," Steve said, "It's something different." I sighed, but nodded to Ian, who then selected the horror movie section on the TV.

"This Hell Hazers II: The Reckoning movie looks pretty good." Ian said. The others seemed to agree. "No!" I shouted. Everyone turned to look at me. I worked that case with the Winchesters. That movie was horrible.

"I saw it," I said, trying to regain my cool. "It was horrible." I could tell they were exchanging looks about me, but I didn't care. Not that movie. Not again.

They all decided on some vampire-killing movie, which I thought was pretty ridiculous. It had a good introduction, I guess. They shot one of the vampires to kill it, and I laughed. Ian turned and looked at me, concerned. I tried to ignore him and eventually he let it be.

There were a few fight scenes though. "Just cut the head off." I muttered. Ian again looked over at me. "I mean, severing the carotid artery will kill someone in thirty seconds. Easiest way." I told him. Ian shook his head and blew it off as me being a geek. Thank goodness.

"Honey," Ian said in my ear. "Was that the door?" I looked away from the TV. The door? I could hear it the second time. Someone was ringing the doorbell. "I'll get it." I said.

Ian gave me a sidelong glance, probably trying to warn me to be careful. Last time I pulled a gun on the postal worker, who reported the whole incident. Yeah, it was a mess.

I got up off the couch and headed to the front door. Using one hand to unlock and open the door, I placed the other on my gun. Slowly it opened enough so I could peek though it.

"Hey." Dean said. I threw the door open and it hit the wall. Rushing forward, I hugged him. He wrapped his arms around me, allowing me to hug him as long as I wanted.

I backed up and smacked him on the arm. "You could've called, idiot." I said, half serious, half joking. Dean didn't return my banter though. Something was very wrong.

I turned to his side to see a man I didn't know. Tall, early thirties, dark hair. Large overcoat. The bluest eyes. "Where's Sam?" I whispered. The man and Dean exchanged looks.

"Honey, who is it?" Ian said, coming up behind me. I moved so he could see them. "This is my old FBI partner." I told him. Dean changed his whole demeanor. "Hey, I'm Dean. Nice to meet you." The two shook hands.

"This is my current partner. I was wondering if we could talk to you about a case we worked a few years back." Dean said. I eyed the man beside him. "He's working the case with me." Which was Dean's way of telling me he was a hunter too.

"Come on in." Ian said, backing up to allow everyone inside. The movie was paused and our guest seemed to be having their own conversation at the moment. "So what did you want to ask me about?" I said.

"It's confidential." Dean said, looking at Ian. He understood. "We are going to head upstairs and talk. You guys go on with the movie." I told him. Ian looked at Dean and the other man before nodding and going back to sit down.

"Follow me." I told them, bringing them upstairs. The last thing I wanted was for Ian to hear what they were going to tell me. Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be good. I allowed them to come into my bedroom and closed the door.

Reaching into my holster, I pulled out my gun and pointed it at the man I didn't know. "Are you in trouble?" I asked Dean. The man in the coat didn't say anything. He didn't even look threatened.

"Woah, Ronnie, it's cool." Dean said, standing between the two of us. "He's a friend." I put my gun back in its holster then. A friend of Dean was a friend of mine. "This is Castiel. He's an angel."

I laughed at first, because at first I thought Dean was using the term of endearment. But he was literal. "This…this is it?" I said, raising a hand to point at him. "What about the wings and the halo and all that crap?"

Dean laughed and Castiel looked confused. "This is merely my vessel." He said. I looked at Dean, having no clue what a vessel was. "It's his meat suit. Kind of like a demon uses a person." Okay, I understood that.

"So they are real." I said, taking another look at him. "Told you so, Dean." There was a case years ago we worked, and Dean was insistent angles weren't' real. "Shut your face, Ronnie." He replied, smiling.

"Okay, so a case. How can I help?" I asked, and the room became silent again. All remnants of joking were gone. "You do have a case, right?" I said. Dean looked away and Castiel watched me, which was a bit weird.

"Right?" I asked again. "You're making Sam wait in the car, like usual. I know he was a total jerk to me last time, but if you guys need to go, just tell me what you need so you can go. I'd hate to hold you up."

Dean sat down on my bed, finally looking up at me. "Sam's dead." It felt like someone punched me in the face. Dead. He had died before, and Dean was able to get him back.

"You need my soul?" I asked. I would do it, too. I didn't know if Dean could sell his again. I didn't even know if he got out of his deal or not in the first place. "No. No deal can save him." Castiel said.

"What do you mean?" I asked. I needed to sit down, or hold onto something. I made my way to my bed and sat down next to Dean. "What does he mean?" I said, my voice getting louder. "Why can't we save him?"

Dean wrapped his arm around my shoulders. "He's inside a cage, in hell." What? Hell? Sam died and went to hell. Why hell? "In order to stop the end of the world, he took Lucifer, Michael, and himself into a cage. If we open it, the world will end." Dean explained. "He told me to live a normal life now. It's over."

I buried my face in Dean's jacket and cried. And I didn't care at this point how loud it was, or how horrible I must look. He was gone, and there was no getting him back. The last thing we did was leave on a bad note.

"I never got to tell him good-bye." I sobbed, trying to regain my composure. "Dean, he left and I didn't go with you guys." Dean had tears running down his cheeks at this point too.

"I never told Sam I love him!" I screamed. Dean held on to me tighter. "Shhh." He said. "Sam knew Ronnie. He knew." But, I could never be sure. I had the chance to tell him and I didn't.

"The last thing that he said to me was to go live a normal life. I'm going to go live with a past girlfriend of mine. Sam wanted you to live like this." Dean told me. I didn't even want to live like this though.

"I have to leave. Cas here will watch out over you tonight, and if you ever need anything, you call him." Castiel looked at Dean and then at me. "Dean, I-" But Dean cut his sentence short.

"She's family. If she calls, you come. Do you understand?" Castiel shut his mouth and nodded. "Don't' be a stranger." Dean said, giving me a hug. I held onto him for some time before letting go.

"Dean, I love you too. You're the only family I have left now." I told him. He looked happy for a moment. "And I love you too, Ronnie. Take care of yourself." With that I walked them back down the stairs and watched them get in the imapla and leave.

I went back to the couch, trying to look like everything was fine. I smiled, I talked fondly about Dean and watched the dumb vampire movie to the end. But the true love of my life was stuck in hell, and I would never see him again.


	15. August, 2010

Contains mature content (graphic torture scene).

August, 2010

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._ The only noise I could hear was that of my own heart. It took me a moment to realize where I was. Instantly I regretted my thoughts. I must have died again. They didn't like it when I died, but every time I did they would just bring me back to here. Back to this position.

Hooks had been jammed into my wrist joints. My legs were pulled taught by chains around my ankles. I was in my old green jacket, plaid shirt, and jeans. The same outfit when I entered this damned place.

If I opened my eyes, they would start again. If I could buy myself any time that I could, I would do it. Although these moments of thought were rarely given to me. I didn't even know if they knew I was conscious. They always seemed to know.

How long it has gone on is a question I asked frequently. Was this really only a matter of weeks outside in the real world? Or have I been here for months, tortured and killed only to live and start the process all over again?

I lost count after fifty. I have been killed fifty times. Or the equivalent to being killed. I'm already in hell, I don't think I can go any further then that.

"He's up." Lucifer said. Damn. I kept my eyes closed as the sound of footsteps neared me. My breathing was already becoming irregular, giving me away. It was hard to force my body to remain calm.

"Wake up, dearie." Two said. I still hadn't figured out what they were. It was a projection, I think. A projection controlled by Lucifer and Michael. Or it was all inside my head. One of the two. It's hard to tell anymore what's real and what's not.

"I said," Two continued. "Rise and shine." A sharp pain radiated from my abdomen and I screamed, eyes wide open now. There was a gaping cut across my stomach, blood covering my clothes. It hurt like heck, but not as bad as my wrists did. The tugging pulled on the hooks, which tore some more though my flesh.

One was the standing next to me today. Usually it was One, sometimes it was Two or Three. Those were the names I had given Lucifer and Michael's henchmen (or the henchmen that were part of my imagination). Lucifer was directly involved as well as his three projections.

One was the first to assist in the dirty work for ten sessions. Two appeared after the tenth session, and Three appeared shortly after that.

All these torture sessions started out the same here in the Cage. Me, hanging my meat hooks from the ceiling of a giant, well, cage. I always started with my clothes on, the same ones from when I threw myself into this hellhole.

An audience was added after session fifteen. Lucifer's idea. He always had a certain flare about him that screamed for humiliation. Which is exactly what they were there for.

First it was just one person: Dean. He didn't say much the first few sessions he appeared, but became harsher and harsher as they continued. Dad. Bobby. Jo. Ellen. Meg. Ruby. Anna. Cas. Uriel. Jess. Sarah. Heck, even Gabriel. More people appeared, people I didn't know, or must knew at one point and didn't remember.

Today it was pretty crowded. I don't think Michael and Lucifer had ever had this many people in the cage before. Michael started appearing after session thirty. I think he enjoyed my pain.

Dean was in the front row, like normal. He was the worst of them, shouting things at me, cheering when I was in pain. His presence was a whole new level of torture. But today things were slightly different.

Dean was rather quiet. Usually he was the loudest. The crowd of spectators parted to allow a new face to come thought. The bottom of my stomach seemed to drop out as she came though to stand next to Dean.

"Remember your girlfriend, freak?" Dean asked. She was just like I saw her last. Brown hair, tiny stature, perfect smile. I hadn't felt this happy in any of the time I had spent here.

"You'll never get to tell her you love her." Dean taunted. I wish he didn't remind me. Ronnie remained silent up until now. "Sam." Her voice was a whisper, but it became quiet in the cage.

"Alright, alright." Lucifer said. "I think we've had enough with the introductions. Let's get down to business." I didn't care how bad it hurt, I tugged on my bonds. I wanted this to be delayed. I wanted to look at Ronnie's face again without feeling anguishing pain.

One took a pair of scissors to my shirt and began cutting up the middle of it. "No." I said, my voice quiet. I knew the next few steps and I wanted to avoid this. As many times as they have done this, the feeling never changes.

Two worked on the sleeves of my shirt and jacket, hacking them away to shreds. More and more of my chest became exposed. Three removed my belt, and I had to resist from kneeing him in the face. I did that once and it did not turn out well.

"You're favorite part, Sam." Lucifer taunted. My jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped. Three yanked them down, allowing them to fall at my bound feet. My underwear were removed in the same fashion.

I tried to avoid making eye contact with anyone, but Two held up my face up to the audience. Dean looked disgusted with me, ashamed that I was related to him. Or so he had said before. Ronnie looked like she pitied me, almost like she cared. But she wasn't real…right?

I didn't have much time to think on that one. Two and Three removed my wrist from the meat hooks. I screamed in pain, thrashing my legs in a vain attempt to get away.

They dropped me and my body hit the floor. I always did hate looking at my wrists in this state, because they were pretty mangled. Pools of blood from the holes alone began to form on the floor.

"You're an embarrassment to us all." Dean sneered. "Look at you, lying naked on the ground. You can't even get up and fight for yourself." He wasn't real. He wasn't here. Nothing can get in or out of the cage. He was fake.

"Get up, bitch." Two kicked me in the ribs, which rolled me over onto my back. I groaned as the pain of what he did pulsed though my body. But somehow I found the strength to sit up.

"We have a long day ahead for you, Sam." Lucifer said, sounding rather excited about the whole thing. Three pulled my arms out in front of me and tied them together.

"We're trying out an old favorite on you today." Two said, taking the chains from Three. He pulled me along the ground like an animal. I tried to stay on my knees to keep up with him, but Two yanked on the chain, making me fall on my face again.

There was a murmur of laughter throughout the crowd. Someone shouted something profane about me, but I tried to block it out. I looked to Ronnie's face, knowing it would only make things worse for me, but it didn't. Was she crying?

A hand slapped me across the face. The fingernails left cuts in my skin, and they stung. "I said arms up, Winchester." Two repeated. I lifted my arms up above my head.

The rope binding my hands was tied to something on the ceiling. My whole body was stretched out, leaving me just enough room to remain kneeling. Three kicked my knee, causing my legs to spread apart further. I didn't dare move again.

One, Two, and Three stepped aside, and whatever was happening behind me I couldn't see. "Hope whips and chains excite you, Sammy." Lucifer said. My back stung and I screamed. Something clawed at me, and Lucifer was dragging it across the skin.

Cat o' nine tails. It was a whip made of multiple strands with tiny knots throughout to inflict as much pain as possible. They were right when they said it was a classic. The cat o' nine tails has been used since ancient Egypt.

Lucifer cracked the whip again, dragging the tails across my back. And he did it again and again and again. It didn't stop. Probably an hour. My voice was growing horse from shouting. The floor in front of me was splattered with my own blood, which was flung on me again as the whip cracked and bared down on my back.

Two wiped my blood off his face before stopping Lucifer. "I think it's my turn." He said. The whip exchanged hands and Lucifer became a spectator. He looked rather pleased at all the blood he saw in front of me. It was sick.

Two walked out from behind me, dragging the whip on the ground. He gave me a crooked smile before raising his arm, smacking me right across the chest. Even though my voice was going, I screamed for that one.

"No!" Ronnie shouted. All my torturers turned towards the crowd. No one else was paying attention to her there, but they noticed. And they paused. Never before had a session paused. This was new.

Ronnie ran forward and knelt in front of me, despite my state. She wasn't disgusted or upset with me. She was sad. "Look what they do to you." She said, placing her hands on my chest.

"What is she doing?" Three asked. Wait, they didn't know what was going on? They always knew. I looked at Ronnie again, who was in tears now. "Get back, woman." One said, lashing out with another whip.

Ronnie got up and stood in front of me, leaving them all in shock. "You don't touch her!" I shouted. Real or not, she wasn't going to be bothered here. I pulled on the chains and struggled to stand up and protect her, which I couldn't manage.

"Do you hear me, you don't get to touch her!" I screamed. Two threw back his wrist and some of the tails caught me in the face. The knots tore off some flesh, but it missed my eyes. I felt Ronnie's hands in my hair. She had taken most of the beating that time.

"And you don't get to touch my brother." Dean said. But this was a different Dean than what I was used to. The other one stepped beside him, opening his mouth to say something. Dean punched him in the face and it knocked the fake one out cold. He stepped over the body and towards me.

"That was weird." He said, before One spun around and tried to catch him. Dean moved in and ran for his stomach, pushing the demon up against the cage.

Ronnie struggled with the chains around my wrists. I couldn't see, but I could hear her fighting off Two or Three at one point. Dean ducked One's punch and went to stab him with the knife, but Lucifer caught his hand. Dean had managed to nick his arm with it.

"Impossible." He said, throwing Dean onto the ground. Three threw Ronnie on the ground beside him. "Some jailbreak." Ronnie whispered to Dean. "I _have_ a plan." Dean replied. They were going to get me out, I just knew it.

They both got up to fight again, but they fell over in pain. Lucifer was causing this, forcing them to remain down on the ground. He stopped, letting Ronnie and Dean relaxed.

One, Two, and Three bound their hands and feet. "Who would you like us to cut up first, Sam?" Lucifer asked, walking behind the two of them. "Your brother," He said, pulling Dean's head up by a handful of hair. "Or your lover?"

"No, don't touch them!" Was this real or fake? I couldn't differentiate, so I decided that at least Dean would have tried everything at this point. It must be him. It had to be.

"Oh, but we are just getting started." Lucifer ran his hand along Ronnie's thigh. This was not happening. I couldn't differentiate if this was real or not, and it was driving me mad.

"NO!" I shouted as loud as I possibly could. "Please, no. Not to them." I said. The demons seemed surprised, but Lucifer wasn't. "Do it to me." I said. "I'll do anything." That raised some eyebrows.

"Be careful, Sam." Lucifer warned, dragging a finger across Dean's face. "You might get what you ask for." And I didn't want that, I really didn't. But if they were real, they were going to get hurt from this. And I couldn't let that happen. "Sam, no." Dean said.

"I want to do some pretty…naughty things with your woman here, too." Ronnie shook her head. "Sam, don't do it." I met Lucifer's eyes. "I'll do anything, just don't touch them."

He let out a laugh. "See what love makes you do? Horrible, isn't it?" I didn't have to think on that one much. "I love both of them, and I've already given my life for their safety. I'd do it again in a heartbeat. So yeah, I'd take a beating for them."

Lucifer looked and Two and Three, who finally let go of Dean and Ronnie. "Fine." Two said. "You're going to take that statement back when we are done." Three added.

Two took the whip and placed it between my legs. "No!" Dean shouted. "Sam!" He swung up and outward, tearing though my skin. The pain made me fall forward, straining my shoulders. It felt they were going to pop out of place, but I couldn't hold myself up.

Three removed the chains and I fell on my face, smearing the floor with blood. One yanked my head up by my hair. "On your knees." He demanded. Three finished removing the chains from my feet, allowing me to sit up. It took a few moments, but I made it onto my knees again.

Two struck my side with the whip and I fell back on my elbows. "I said, on your knees." One demanded. I struggled to get up, but I did. Ronnie and Dean were silent at this point. They were working on their bonds, I could tell, but they weren't getting anywhere. We weren't in control here.

"On your hands and knees." Lucifer specified. I placed my hands out in front of me. I didn't think I could hold myself up, but I tried. My hands slipped in the blood on the floor, but it was good enough for them.

"No, don't do this!" Dean shouted. I didn't dare look around. I kept my head low. "But I'm looking forward to this so much!" Lucifer said. Ronnie tried to burry her face in Dean's shoulder, but she kept her eyes on me anyways.

"Down on your elbows." One said, lifting his leg up. His foot sat on the back of my neck, applying pressure to get me to go down. I did as he said and got onto my elbows. I had a feeling I knew what this was. I feared it, but it was going to happen whether I wanted it to or not.

"Don't move or I'll whip you," Two said. I tried to keep myself from sliding on my hands and knees. Lucifer placed his hand on my hip and it took every ounce of strength not to move away.

"Good boy, Sammy." He whispered. He placed his hands on me again, pulling my hips up. I didn't want to think about it. "They aren't real." Two said. Ronnie and Dean were gone. "But you sure begged for us to torture you."

Somewhere I hoped that they were real, and that they were here. That they tried. But I couldn't think about that now. I dug my fingernails into the floor and screamed. It hurt. It hurt immensely. And it was humiliating.

Lucifer leaned on me, beginning to pant. I wanted him off me, out of me. His hands worked their way down from my hips to my groin. Taking my elbow off the ground, I rammed it back into his nose.

Lucifer fell backwards, confused for a second. Two was quick with the whip and hit my back again, tearing up the healing wounds. "Get down." One said, placing his foot back behind my head.

I got back down on my elbows as I was forced to do. Lucifer wasn't finished with me, and he dragged this out. Finally he got off me and kicked me, throwing me on my side.

My body ached worse then ever before. There wasn't even enough energy for me to sit up. "Sam, you really are my bitch, in all sense of the word." Lucifer taunted. My eyes fluttered shut before I forced them open. I was dying.

"Get up on your knees." He commanded. My breathing slowed and the colors of the horror scene in front of my started to fade. The whip came down over my face again and my vision went black.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._ The only noise I could hear was that of my own heart. And so the next session began.


End file.
